


a wolf in sheep’s clothing

by veinsofelectric (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Boggarts, Good Fenrir Greyback, Good Slytherins, Independent Harry Potter, Lethifolds - Freeform, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Harry Potter, Obscurial Harry Potter, Obscurus (Harry Potter), Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Slytherins, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Weredad Fenrir, Werewolves, blaise is a great friend, harry gets the big sad, that should be a tag by now come on man, thedore (teddy) is a great friend, tracey davis is superior, tracey is the best half blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 68,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/veinsofelectric
Summary: the ‘boy-who-lived’ they call him, cursing or praising his name when they feel it suitable. then the boy meets a man who truly does not care for the boys status; the man then meets a young boy who does not understand nor bother for his own reputation either. unintentionally the man has just changed the world as they know it by changing the boys views.and underneath the blue moon the start of something beautiful yet dangerous blooms.I orphaned this work because I know I won’t update this ever again lmao - veinsofelectric
Relationships: Fenrir Greyback & Harry Potter
Comments: 86
Kudos: 676





	1. into the woods

**Author's Note:**

> lower case intended bc i don’t have auto-caps on lmao

gasping, emerald eyes water as pain shoots through their body, landing on the hard marble ground with a dull thump. harry potter hunches in on himself as the door slams shut, the last glimpses of light leaving his body, casting him into the nightfall’s darkness. tremors rattle through his body like the mail slot reverberating against the door from the force it slammedwith, loud against the streets quiet. 

sighing, the curly haired brunet lifts himself onto shaky legs, the brick wall being his only support. pushing himself into the driveway he watches as the yellow gleam from the living room is cut off, the sound of curtains shutting echoing in his ears. he forcefully turns his eyes away from the house, exhaling sharply at the pain that shoots through his legs as he stumbles away from the house. 

privet drive is a street made for eutopia, or should be anyways. the house line up in neat rows, each house identical to the one besides it, the cars parked in the drive being the only way to differentiate house from house. perfect and pristine, flawless as far as any outsider is aware. overlooked and completely normal as far as anyone is concerned. 

however those who do look closer would find the stains on the pavement, age old alcohol bottles smashed, leaving a permanent imprint behind. moss growing steadily in the walls separating each uniformed house, knowing eventually they’ll crumble. the empty feeling of the street, warning people things aren’t what they seem. those who do look will find the flaws. 

flaws like harry potter, the pavement stain of the whole street. the apparent criminal who goes to behavioural school. that is if they have no awareness, if they can’t see the scrawny twelve year old is nothing but a lonely child. no they don’t look for harry, those ones look for the freak, the troublesome nephew of privet drive darling, petunia dursley. 

those who notice the rags will be the ones who notice the cupboard under the stairs, a lock on the outside with a mattress on the in. they’ll notice the drawings plastered on the walls and be able to tell that this house is nothing but a chamber of perfection, anything slightly different locked away. be it in the cupboard under the stairs or the dursley’s son’s second bedroom with seven locks on the outside, a cat-flap at the base. those are the ones who can truly see reality, those who can see past the plastic pleasantries of the dursley’s. 

harry shuffles as he reaches the park, glancing back once to look at the dimly lit street, the glow of orange emanating from the street lamps. he turns, looking away from the road, gingerly plopping down onto a swing. 

his fragile frame sways gently on the swing in the midnights wind. letting the breeze lick the burning agony of each wound he has collected today. he lets the air wrap him in a loose hug of bitter reality, keeping him safe from those he is forced to stay with. 

harry’s head flicks up as pained cries sound from the forest ahead, the trees shimmering in the draught, the moonlight dancing on the leaves. another cry emerges from the depths of the woods and harry is already on his feet, drifting towards the familiar woods he hides away from the dursley’s in. 

he follows the cries deep,  deep into the trees, running his hand along the trunks as he passes, the feeling of the wood grounding him to here and now. he cannot let the person crying out suffer from selfishness of wanting to sleep, that is what a coward would do, harry is no coward. 

take the basilisk for example, harry never did hate tom or voldemort as he’s now known. harry will not deal with silly titles such as ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’, it’s childish and instils fear into anyone who can fear. how wizards of everyone fear a name is beyond harry, he understands that at the time of the war it was alright to fear the man but now all they are fearing is a dead man. what good is fearing a dead man. just as muggles no longer fear adolf hitler, wizards should no longer fear tom. 

harry feels terrible about his actions in the chamber. he couldn’t bring himself to kill tom and instead trapped him in the book, the basilisk still piercing his arm. he would’ve bled to death if not for fawkes and wouldn’t that be ironic, the boy-who-lived to die at the mercy of slytherins monster. it pained him greatly to kill the basilisk anyways, no one his age can understand the trauma of being the cause of anything’s death. quirrell dying at his hands in first year drove a lot more sense into harry. 

so as he bled out from the basilisk induced wound, he saved the diary and then he saved ginny. harry’s sure if he was made to choose he would’ve chosen to save tom, the guilt that makes him feel is unbearable. he knows tom didn’t have a childhood, just as he had not himself and he wanted to be the one to fix that. now he can’t even look at the diary without his magic flaring from hurt. he vows not to touch the magic until the dead man no doubt makes his return. 

ironic isn’t it, the saviour of the wizarding world, a murderer by the age of eleven. 

brushing off his thoughts, harry turns to the clearing he’s stumbled upon. he’s blessed with a glorious sight, he rubs his eyes in shock to check if he’s seeing things. 

a large silver wolf sits at the waters edge, lapping the water up, its huge body shaking slightly in the wind. 

harry reaches his magic out, like he’s learned in the past to see if he’s safe. he falters as his magic reacts to another’s and quickly whirls around to find the wizard, cursing the dursley’s for locking his wand away. 

a growl from behind him forces him to turn back. the wolf pounces before harry can reacts, the sharp, needle like claws protruding from its paws slashing across harry’s side. harry whimpers, gasping out in surprise and pain. he grits his teeth and breathes harshly, waiting for the wolf to end his life. what a sadist mother nature is, letting him survive an ancient creature only to be killed at the paws of a wolf, defenceless and alone. 

a confused yowl comes from the wolf and harry closes his eyes, putting his arm over his face. he flinches as a rough object is dragged across the wound on his side. his eyes snap open and he looks down in bewilderment as the wolf cleans his wound, the cuts sealing shut with the creatures saliva. 

it’s then that harry realises something isn’t quite right here. reaching his magic out he finds two opposing fields surrounding the wolf. one reminds him of the adult witches and wizards; the other reminds him of the magical creatures. it’s strikes harry that maybe this is a magical creature that he fortunately happened upon. 

the wolf stands over harry’s exhausted body, scanning him for something, the wolves eyes shining in awe. harry winces as the wolf accidentally steps on one of his bruises, the purple ring around his ankle, courtesy of his uncle dragging him down the stairs and outside just a while ago. 

the wolf staggers back with a yelp before standing stock-still, looking at itself as if surprised with its own actions. the wolf sits in front of harry’s limp body, just in front of his feet. 

the moon is a peculiar blueish hue tonight and harry feels as though there’s a thought he just can’t reach in his tired mind. 

it’s hours before harry’s aching body eventually succumbs to slumber as dawn is on the horizon. the last things his hears before his eyes slip closed is the distinct sound of clothes ruffling. 

funny, he doesn’t remember any part of his clothing moving. 

waking up harry finds he’s not in the opening he fell asleep in. he’s actually quite comfortable, lying in a warm bed surrounded by soft fabrics, furs. harry blinks. now alert with panic he stands quickly, ignoring the sharp pains shooting up through his body. he looks around for any type of weapon he can defend himself with. 

the ceiling of the room is dome shaped, the walls lined with shelves of books and potions.  potions? oh no... does that mean he’s with a wizard or witch? what if they’re after revenge for voldemort, what if this  is voldemort. the room is swarming with the magic he felt yesterday night, covering the walls and smothering the fur carpets. 

whoever he’s with does have good taste, for a caveman. suiting considering he’s sure this is a cave. there’s your typical polar bear rug underneath the four poster bed, the bed covered in a thick furs of all kinds, sewn to create an insulating duvet. harry finds it’s actually quite homely in here. the only unnerving part is the deep, age old claw marks embedded in the walls. 

looking down at himself, harry notices that the only odd thing happening was not waking up a strangers room. he’s in clothes, clothes that definitely aren’t his. they fit better than dudleys cast off but still drape on his lean frame, giving him a look of petit innocence. a pair of warm cotton trousers and a soft green t-shirt. 

that’s when harry notices the bruises, or lack thereof. he actually pinches himself to make sure he’s not having some sort of insomnia induced hallucination. he sits back on the bed, bringing one leg up to check his ankle he surely broke yesterday, his fragile bone cracking loudly in his uncles grip. there’s no sign of any breakage or bruising now, harry checks to make sure he hasn’t had a bout of accidental magic to cover them as he pokes where the bruise was. there’s no purple ring and no pain, in fact he’s not in any pain anymore, a highly uncommon happening even at hogwarts, there’s always someone out to get him. 

there’s a shimmer of light as he rolls his ankle in the candle lit room. he looks closer, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. there’s a faint shimmer where the bruise used to be. he checks and sure enough there’s a faint shimmer where all his bruises were. he touches the substance and blinks in surprise. this is healing balm. 

it then occurs to harry that he’s in a strangers home, wearing their clothes. they’ll have changed him and seen all the damage on his body. they’ll have seen the scars. harry inhales sharply as his left hand unconsciously runs over the scar, vertical down his right forearm from where the basilisk pierced him and finds that it’s also coated in a healing potion, not that it’ll do any use. however the dull ache that’s been with him, underneath the scar since he woke up in the hospital wing after the chamber shenanigan, has vanished. 

harry finally forces himself to calm down, looking at the end of the bed to find his shoes at the base of the bed, his feet covered in woolen socks. he listens for any sounds that he missed over his heavy breathing and hears the faint crackles of something outside the entrance. 

there’s two doors inside the cave but theres a fur hanging over a hole in the wall, moonlight streaming in through the cracks from outside. the doors most likely only lead to a bathroom or storage. deciding he can explore more later, harry makes his way towards the tarp, gently pushing it aside to find the source of noise. 

it’s dark out and harry isn’t surprised to find he’s slept through the day, maybe even more considering the damage vernon always does when he arrives back from school. the stars are out and the moon is no longer full much to harry’s disappointment, the blue moon always is a beauty to see. 

he hears the man before he sees him, whirling around on silent feet to look in the mumblings direction. there’s quite a large fire, he recalls the crackling he heard and figures this must be the source. the man is sat on a wooden log, back to harry. the mans shirt is stretched against him, his muscles obviously filling out the shirt. harry can only see the mans tussled brown hair from here, his hair shoulder length and unkept, no one here to dress up for. 

harry reaches out his magic and is surprised to find both the magic of the wolf and the man. this man seems to be half wolf, half human. or perhaps... a werewolf. it would explain the claw marks inside the cave walls. 

harry moves closer, gently sitting down on the grass next to the man, the soft fabric of the trousers against his skin. the man blinks in surprise having not heard the small boy approach or even sit down, he just noticed the increase of magic near him and looked down to find the boy. 

“how’d you do it?” the man barks out and harry stares into the fire, if this man wanted to hurt him, he would’ve by now and certainly wouldn’t of healed his wounds. the mans voice is gravelly from obvious lack of use, isolated in the woods it’d be a wonder who the man talked to. 

“do what?” harry honestly doesn’t know what the man means. his voice soft, surprising the man as his eyes widen slightly at the tone. 

“you calmed my wolf.” the man states but questions at the same time and harry does remember the wolf calming down. 

“i’m not sure... one minute you were attacking me and then you weren’t.” harry says, his lip worrying between his teeth as he tries to come up with a valid reason for calming a werewolf. 

“i... how’d you know i was the wolf?” the man snarls but it’s not very affective with the curiosity swirling in his tone. he demands an answer and harry doesn’t really feel the need to start any arguments with a fully trained wizard right now. especially a wizard who healed him and saved him from freezing to death last night. 

“your magic, it’s in two parts. you have the same magic as the wolf did so i figured... i didn’t know werewolves were real.” harry’s childlike wonder steps into his voice towards the end as the man eyed him curiously. 

“you can sense magic?” the man raises an eyebrow, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that makes harry feel secure. this surprises harry seeing as the twinkle in dumbledore’s eyes just make him feel terribly uneasy. 

“i thought that was normal...” harry grimaces realising this is yet another thing that differs him from everyone else, something he assumed the others had and never mentioned thankfully. the parseltongue incident was bad enough this year, they’d use him like a sniffer dog to trace magic if they knew about this if he was one of the few who had it. 

the man regards him with weary eyes, “i’m fenrir greyback...” he seems to be awaiting a reaction but harry’s never heard the name before. his anxiousness and desolate residence only pushes harry to believe the man is in hiding and he has just disrupted the peace, yet again. 

“thank you for helping mr grey, i’m sorry for burdening you with myself. honestly i was only worried about the screams i heard... was that you screaming?” harry asks tentatively, actively avoiding the older mans eyes as he learnt to over the years. the man raises an eyebrow at the choice of name but talks nonetheless. 

“...yes that was me screaming, transforming is usually quite painful and i won’t take the wolfsbane potion because it’s poison.” there’s hesitation in the mans voice as if he’s reluctant to tell harry anything even knowing that they’re the only two here and harry has no one to tell except nearby animals. 

“that’s terrible...” harry mumbles in agreement. wolfsbane potion, sounds like it’s made for werewolves and distributed by the ministry. it’s not a surprise they’re trying to poison werewolves seeing as they’re considered dark creatures and everyone is so prejudiced against anything dark. besides, harry doesn’t think werewolves are all that bad, he thinks as he turns to watch greyback throw more sticks into the fire. 

“i don’t know what you did to my wolf kid but i’m glad i didn’t kill you, seems you were on the brink of death anyways. not sure you would’ve made it to midday.” grey says bluntly and harry snorts quietly. “what’s so funny kid?” he snaps thinking harry’s laughing at his judgement of not believing him. 

“just imagine the headlines: harry potter, the boy-who-lived, met the embrace of death by hypothermia!” harry giggles slightly imagining dumbledore’s face as he read that. 

the man abruptly falls silent and stares at the oblivious boy with wide eyes, jaw dropped. this is the boy-who-lived? this scrawny kid is the twelve year old saviour of the wizarding world. if this is their so called saviour what was the boy doing in a muggle forest covered in blood and dirt on the brink of death. why was he not in the wizarding world being kept safe. why was a purebloods son walking around in rags, strips of fabric barely able to be called rags that drown his terribly skinny body. why was the boy so bruised and his eyes so weary? surely a twelve year old has no reason to be so vigilant at this point in life? greyback has so many questions. 

harry seems to notice the tense silence after a few minutes and turns to see greyback staring at him incredulously. harry sighs as he realises what he’s just said, what a way to introduce himself. now this man will be calling favours from him to get rid of whoever was after him even if he had no control seeing as  _he is a child._

“you’re harry potter?” the mans voice is disbelieving and harry sighs, pulling his fringe up to expose the horrible scar aunt petunia used to cover with concealer when they left the house. the awful reminder that his parents are dead and he can never have a proper family. 

harry sighs again, turning back to the fire as his heart twists painfully. for once he just wants someone to treat him normally. “kid what the hell happened to you? you were covered in bruises and blood when i finally got a good glimpse of you and i know i ain’t done all that damage.” the man grunts and harry turns to him, surprised at the question. no one ever asks questions anymore, they sneer at him and mutter something about teenagers or delinquents. 

“uh... my muggle relatives don’t like magic.” harry decides on. 

greyback is shocked at this, they put the saviour with a muggle family. a  _magic-hating_ muggle family and an abusive one at that too. the abuse is bad and greybacks sure he hasn’t even scraped the surface of it, the bruises and scars splattered on the boys skin like a horrible demented work of art ingrained in his memory. he hadn’t even realised he was looking after harry potter, not that he regrets it now. there’s something about the boy that’s special, not just because he killed the dark lord. 

“why don’t you complain kid?” greyback asks, surely dumbledore would fix this but then again maybe he wouldn’t. remembering severus snapes absolutely terrible years at hogwarts he’s not quite sure whether dumbledore is aware or not of the extent the marauders’ bullying went.

“i always ask dumbledore not to go back but he says it’s the safest place for me. blood wards or something. he says i’m over-exaggerating and that they do love me but that’s not true at all. it’s not that bad honestly, if i’m safe i can get over a slap or two..” harry mumbles and greyback has to stop  _himself_ from backhanding the boy across the head. what type of twelve year old has that much twisted logic and selflessness to blindly give up his happiness to please others. 

“well it’s pretty obvious to me that it’s not just a slap or two kid and you sure as hell ain’t safe there if i’m not blind.” he stresses to the small green eyed boy besides him. 

“perhaps, but it’s nothing i can’t deal with. especially not after the last two years at hogwarts.” harry nods in agreement, his eyes dim and far away. 

“what happened to last two years?” he doesn’t really have access to the wizarding world currently. 

“do you not know?” greyback shakes his head and it makes sense because if he’s in hiding it’s doubtful he’d be informed. “well first year i... burnt professor quirrell because the back of his head was possessed by voldemort and i had to save the philosophers stone. then last year i had to go into the chamber of secrets to stop the basilisk petrifying students. i had to kill the basilisk and it bit me, i would’ve died if fawkes —dumbledore’s phoenix— hadn’t saved me. i had to save ginny weasley from some dark artefact down there. i can go into more detail if you want but not now...” harry doesn’t really want to think about hogwarts right now. right now in this warm, safe, peaceful space with a man who seems to care for his wellbeing if he’s not just curious. harry’d rather concentrate on the way the embers fall from the flames than the way the venom slowly paralysed his body. 

greyback regards the kid with horror, the kids obviously holding back from telling him everything and he feels sick from the vaguer detail. basilisk venom? what exactly is dumbledore playing at sending a twelve year old into salazars chambers anyways. “dumbledore really has lost his marbles!” greyback growls at the amount of precious wizarding children he was endangering, a strange sense of protectiveness over harry overcoming him. 

harry giggles softly breaking greyback from his rant. from what he’s heard the boy was spoilt rotten and a stuck up little ponce. but right here, right now it looks as if this is the first time harry’s ever felt carefree. his lips not pursed in pain and his eyes brightening slightly behind the burden he holds. 

there truly is something absolutely fascinating about this kid. 

“why did you  heal me?”  _why haven’t you killed me yet?_

they’re still sat in front of the fire and greyback is recalling everything he knows about the potter child to try anything to make him dislike the child. when his lord comes back —seeing as the dark mark is still on marked followers arms, the dark lord will come back eventually— he can’t have a weakness for the one thing his lord wants to kill more than dumbledore. he tries so hard to place snapes accusations on harry but the boy is made of pure innocence and loneliness. this in not the harry potter snape sees, not the warped version described by the potions master to them because of a childhood feud. no, this is just a child, a child who cannot possibly be as arrogant as claimed by many. 

“you were hurt bad kid... do they hurt you a lot? your muggles?” harry nods hesitantly and greyback sighs loudly. “where’s your wand anyways kid? it’s not on you.” that’s another thing he noticed while fixing harry up, not that he knew it was harry, but there was a magical sense to this kid. werewolf saliva wouldn’t heal the wounds on a muggle and it’s strange the kid is so hurt, without a wand too meaning he was defenceless. 

“it’s locked in my cupboard, i’m not allowed to talk about magic in the house. ...can i bring my stuff here sometimes it’s just snape always gets angry when i don’t do my homework properly. i have to do it on the train and it’s not like i can do it over summer but they don’t know and i—“ 

greyback cuts the kids rambling off quickly, watching the panic build up as the kids eyes widen, realising what he’s just asked. “as much as i don’t like children kid, you can bring your stuff here. maybe i’ll teach you a thing or two...” and he means it too. he can teach the kid things they won’t at hogwarts, merlin knows he needs it by the looks of it. 

“thanks mr grey!” harry’s eyes are wide, twinkling in adoration. his voice is soft and warm, conveying his thanks. he really does hope greyback teaches him stuff, he loves hogwarts but he can’t truly apply himself without hermoine throwing a hissy fit or ron getting jealous. that transfiguration essay during first year taught him a lot about his friends. ron glared at him and congratulated him with a tight voice while hermoine went on a rant about how her essay was so much better. harry had never felt so helpless, that is exactly what the dursley’s had him do with dudley. 

“don’t sweat it kid, i don’t trust those hogwarts teachers to teach you properly anyways.” and he truly doesn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: I hear screaming  
> Harry: I’ve been summoned   
> Harry: oh a wolf  
> Harry: lol Mother Nature a sadist man  
> Harry: this shit wild  
> Greyback: is that a CHILD AHHHHH


	2. a dash of trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i want to explain that it didn’t occur to me when i was writing this months ago that it might sound weird for harry to be calling him ‘mr grey’ from the start. so let me explain.
> 
> harry knows the man is running for something so he doesn’t call him ‘fenrir’ or ‘greyback’ and he’s always been polite anyways. ‘mr grey’ sounds childish but harry is a child soooo
> 
> anyways i also refer to him as greyback and as grey for harry because i’ve never heard anyone referring to him as fenrir.

harry returns to privet drive in the early hours of dawn after talking to greyback for hours in front of the fire. seemingly, greyback also has the same problems sleeping at night as harry does. the scars covering the man could very well be the cause of his insomnia, that’s the cause of harry’s insomniac tendencies himself. 

greyback is an enigma harry has never come across before. stroking his hand across the bush leaves as he walks down the street filled with sunrise, he wonders why he’s never met anyone like mr grey before. 

nobody has ever  _not_ wanted anything from him. the dursley’s want him to leave, the wizarding world wants him to be their saviour, dumbledore wants him to be a good example and be the golden boy. greyback doesn’t want anything of these things from him. while most people want something black or white from him; greyback wants nothing, he’s the first grey —ironically— person harry’s met. on a scale of voldemort to hedwig, greyback is a solid mr grey and harry doesn’t think he’ll mind keeping him around. 

silently unlocking the door with a push of his magic he makes his way inside, walking towards the cupboard under the stairs. the house is eerily silent and harry had slipped his shoes off on the mat so that his socks muffle his steps. sliding the lock, he nervously glances up the stairs where he can hear the dursley boys heavy snores, sounding like foghorns in a hush. 

he wonders why he hasn’t thought of this before —hiding his stuff inside the invisibility cloak that is. well of course he’d have to at least put them in the cupboard first but then he could’ve easily taken his things back while they’re out, they don’t like checking the cupboard anyways, they’re too trusting for their hatred of him. they trust him not to poison them, not to turn his wand on them and he hasn’t. that doesn’t mean he  can’t though. he could easily hurt them and not regret it at all but he doesn’t doubt that dumbledore is in contact with them. 

that’s another thing:  _dumbledore._ the man is proving himself alarmingly uncaring of his students wellbeing. why didn’t he shut hogwarts as soon as the first person was petrified, why wait until a child is no doubt meeting their death in an unreachable place? dumbledore doesn’t even let them have their peace, harassing them as soon as they wake for answers they may not even have. 

harry’s heart goes out to ginny, the poor girl is definitely traumatised from what he can see. he saw the haunted look in her eyes, the heartbreak of having someone beloved betray you; harry knows exactly what it feels like, he wasn’t blind to the disgust on his friends faces when he spoke parseltongue. removing his things from the cupboard, he wonders what the outcome of the year would’ve been if he had kept his mouth shut in duelling club. there’s no point dwelling on the past now however, what’s done is done and he cannot reverse it. 

he tiptoes up the stairs, clutching his package to his chest, biting his lip, hoping that would keep him as quiet as possible. his door is still open and he slips inside, quickly but quietly prying up a floor board and putting everything inside. last year he tried to keep his wand in there but his uncle had demanded it, they didn’t know he had it now though so it’s no matter. harry pulls out his invisibility cloak and drapes it over everything before pushing the floorboard shut, wincing as it cracks loudly like a breaking bone. 

he waits patiently for someone to storm into his room and silence him in whichever way they please. when nothing happens he sits down on his bed, pushing his shoes underneath before letting his tired body fall asleep. 

he wakes up when there’s a strangled groan coming from the doorway and before he can fully open his eyes there a hand around his neck, now he’s being the one strangled. he gasps for breath as the grip tightens, the grubby fingers he’s identified as his uncles clammy against his skin. 

“what freaky shit have you done boy?!” his uncle demands as he finally lets go, gesturing at harry’s body. harry pants for breath as he tries to figure out what exactly he’s done that his uncle considers ‘freaky’. 

it’s a sudden realisation that has harry cringing at his carelessness. the bruises are all gone without a trace, something his uncle is obviously not happy about. he shrugs shakily, his throat aching. “well get to making breakfast boy! my poor pet had to make breakfast herself while you were whoring yourself out!” harry cringes slightly, this is a new insult. normally it was just about how worthless he is and how like his horrid parents he is. they’ve never assumed him to be a whore before however. harry assumes it’s because he didn’t come back for two nights, it’s a strangely intelligent conclusion for his uncle to come up with even if he’s not right. 

he pushes himself up, his body moaning at the loss of comfort. stretching himself out as his uncle leaves. he grimaces as he hears his bones crack from lack of movement. he yawns slightly and looks down to find himself still in mr greys clothes. he checks the clock and finds he had only two hours sleep to his dismay, usually they sleep in longer during summer. maybe his disappearance had caused their nerves to stir, what would they say if dumbledore showed up and he wasn’t there. oh what a  _disaster_ that would be. 

his feet pad against the stairs softly, years of forced silence ingrained in his head as he heads to the kitchen. he slides through the archway, startling petunia who promptly scowls at him and orders him to make breakfast before joining her family in the living room. 

harry sighs as he moves automatically through the kitchen, his movements fluid and calm. he always has had a soft spot for cooking and gardening. they give him a distraction from the scornful glares of his nasty relatives. potions would’ve been a dream for him at hogwarts, a practice he could absolve himself in, away from prying glares of students. too bad snape seems to hate him to the very core. harry doesn’t know what he did to deserve the teachers scorn, he actually respects snape quite a bit especially with the man always saving him. his glasses are the other problem, even with them on he can’t properly read snapes writing and with ron nattering in his ear it’s an impossible task to not mess up. perhaps he should change potion partners this year? it would be a reasonable idea, he wouldn’t even mind being with the slytherins if it meant no one got hurt. 

scrubbing the last kitchen tile with his bleach frayed sponge, he wipes his forehead on the back of his arm. he’s almost finished his chores and it’s nearly midday now. his cheek stings from the slap his aunt gave him with the frying pan, the object still being hot just made the redness last longer. his throat is no doubt bruised now, his voice hoarse and dry. 

he’s now done with his chores, slipping the yellow gloves off that protect his hands from the bleach. it was one of the only investments his aunt had done for him, but only after the primary teachers had questioned about the burned and blistered eight year old’s hands. it wasn’t without hesitation either. she’s not like vernon, while she still physically abuses him, she never touches him; she makes him wash the dishes in scolding water and deprives him of food for long periods of time. she’s also the cause of emotional abuse, more-so than vernon because, let’s be honest, his uncle is dumber than a doornail. 

his eyes sting from bleach fumes and he vaguely wonders how he hasn’t gone blind yet. the darkness of the cupboard has thoroughly destroyed his sight and the wrong prescription glasses don’t help matters. oh well, he’ll have to ask grey if there’s a way to reverse years of damage. 

he stands up with a groan, his knees bruised from hours on the kitchen floor. having changed into shorts as to not ruin his clothes, harry traces the bare skin of his knees with agitation. he doesn’t know wether he’s relieved his garden chores are tomorrow or not. 

he shoves all the cleaning equipment back into the storage cupboard in the utility room next to the kitchen, eyeing the bleach with distaste. he regrettably had drank the substance once, not knowing what it was but the thirst was unbearable. it had shredded his throat, burning him from the inside out, the only reason he survived was his magic ridding of the substance then fixing him but the trauma was irreversible. if he had died, it would’ve looked like a suicide attempt and maybe if harry hadn’t been so lucid as he drank it, it may have been one. sometimes he considers drinking it to get away as his motivation to save everyone slowly dwindles away with each resentful action the wizarding world throws at him. 

he hears the door shutting and the dursley’s are driving away, something about going into town. harry weighs out his options before hopping up the stairs to retrieve his things from under the floorboard. then slipping his shoes on, he walks out of 4 privet drive, the lock clicking shut with a wave of his magic. 

“mr grey!” harry shouts gleefully as he hops over a log, reaching the base of greybacks cave. his voice resounds through the mostly quiet area, the only other sign of life being the birds chirping up in the treetops. his voice is scraggly and strained as he pushes his voice to shout. 

greyback emerges from his cave with a raised eyebrow and harry just grins up at him. greyback has his wand out and grunts when he finds there’s no danger, maybe he really had expected harry to run to dumbledore for whatever reason he was hiding. 

greyback approaches harry as he flops down, crossing his legs underneath his lean frame as he stares up at the werewolf. greyback stares down at harry for a solid minute before sitting across from him on a log. “they got you good huh kid?” he says, gesturing to harry’s throat.  _so there is a bruise_ . harry chuckles with a nod, his neck flushing slightly in embarrassment. 

greyback pulls his wand back out and harry flinches back on reflex. the were raises an eyebrow before slowly moving his wand, harry shuts his eyes, biting his lip as he awaits the curse. “ _episkey!_ ” the man mutters and harry feels the bruises on his throat leaving, as with the redness of his cheek. he blinks dumbly at the man before giving him a lopsided grin. 

“thanks.” he says and pulls his trunk out to grab his book bag. he finds his book bag and makes quick work on finding his transfiguration essay. an essay on the theory behind transfiguration. harry taps the end of his pencil against his lips, he’s not at hogwarts so he doesn’t have to use quills right now. 

“what’s your essay on kid?” greyback asks as he watches harry pulls his knees up so that he can balance his parchment on a book, using his knees as a station. 

“theory behind transfiguration...” harry mumbles as he chews on the pencils end, a habit he picked up to help himself think. greyback watches the boy in front of him struggle for a moment before he decides to speak up, annoyed at the silence even though it’s his every day. 

“transfiguration uses a lot of willpower...” the boy looks up at him momentarily before slowly writing down what greyback says. he nods for grey to continue, still looking at the parchment. “you need to have a clear image of what you want to transfigure in your head and then what you want to transfigure it to. you have to feel your magic and push it into your wand, directing the image of the end result in your head and letting it flow through your wand before transfiguring. when you have successfully imagined what you want you should always stay focused on the object in front of you, don’t let distractions deter your concentration...” greyback talks for ages, harry jotting down notes of what the man says rather than trying to push it all into an essay at once. 

when greyback is finished talking, he lets harry start his essay properly, proud of the way the kid took notes instead of writing word for word what he says. 

harry has a basic understanding of the magic behind transfiguration now and writes his five foot essay that was assigned before stretching his legs out, placing his book aside. it’s getting darker now and it’s almost time for harry to go home. 

he gives his essay to greyback who transfigures a stone into a quill and he scans over harry’s essay, either correcting or adding in points in the margins for harry to use. “good job kid!” greyback says and harry grins under the praise. 

harry takes a moment to fully assess greyback; his weary eyes, muscles tight as if he was going to need to flee any moment, reflexively grabbing for his wand whenever a loud noise comes from the woods. “mr grey... what are you hiding from?” harry asks curiously as greybacks eyes flick to him quickly. 

“well kid.. i might as well tell ya now, save me the trouble of you finding out from someone else and betraying me.” harry blinks, he’s sure that there’s nothing that could make him turn greyback in to... whoever was looking for the man. the man had helped him and harry owes him this much. “i.. i’m a murderer kid. the ministry is after me because i attacked children when i wasn’t in control of my wolf. they want me to get the dementors kiss.” greyback looks away, ashamed with himself. 

“what’s a dementor?” harry asks, he’s never heard of these creatures before. 

greyback looks at him astonished, “kid did you not just hear me say i’m a murderer?” he snarls as if harry hadn’t been listening. harry nods, raising an eyebrow. “why..you aren’t bothered?” he states, gazing at the small boys figure with intrigue. 

“well it’s not like i’ve never killed anyone.” harry thinks nonchalance is the best way to go about this. he doesn’t particularly like remembering the feeling of quirrell burning beneath his hands or replaying the basilisks screech. he forces himself to believe he had no other choice, he  _didn’t_ have another choice. quirrell would’ve killed him and so would the basilisk. he had no choice; he doesn’t think greyback did either, he voices as much. “it’s not like i wanted to, but i had no choice. just as i assume you had no choice yourself” he shrugs, pushing the dark thoughts out of his head. 

greyback inhales sharply with a tight nod and a grimace, confirming harry’s suspicion. the were shakes his head, the dazed look in his eyes disappearing as soon as it had appeared when their conversation started. grey coughs roughly, clearing his throat. “dementors are creatures that take away all happiness. the dementors kiss is what they use as a sentence for folks in azkaban sometimes. the dementors they.. suck out the soul, killing the person. the only way to get rid of them is the patronum charm and i sadly enough can’t produce a patronus anymore.” greyback shivers as he remembers his months in azkaban before he escaped, so cold and depressing. 

“do you reckon i could cast the spell?” harry asks, eyeing his wand disdainfully, the underage magic laws still on his mind. 

“i can teach you tomorrow if you like...” greyback says and watches as harry’s eyes light up with glee. harry grins up at him, his shoulders relaxing from the tense conversation. 

“what do dementors look like?... i want to be prepared incase i ever meet one.” harry’s joy is infectious and greyback finds himself smiling slightly alongside the boy. yesterday the boy seemed a lot more lost and greyback is still unsure if the boy has masks or not, he guesses he’ll find out over summer. he chuckles inwardly at the thought of dumbledore finding out his precious saviour had spent the summer with a werewolf. 

“they’re like black floating cloaks with skeleton hands, ugly bastards the lot of em. i’ll try and find a book on magical creatures for you but i doubt you’ll be coming into contact with a dementor anytime soon kid.” grey says with a huffed laugh. 

“well with my famous potter luck i hardly doubt its impossible.” harry giggles slightly but a small wave of despair passes underneath. he wonders if potter luck truly is genetic, james potter didn’t seem to have the worst luck until the last year of his life. 

harry looks at greyback thoughtfully, does the man have any family? if he did, does he know? wolves travel in packs right, do werewolves have packs. “mr grey? do werewolves have packs?” harry asks with furrowed brows. greyback looks over in unconcealed shock, a flash of pain in his blue eyes before he conceals it quickly. 

“yeah most werewolves do, it makes the full moon a whole lot easier. my pack ain’t around anymore, that’s why i did the things i did. my wolf acted on its own accord until i was able to seclude myself from hurting others.” so harry is right and that confirms his earlier suspicions; greyback didn’t have a choice, his wolf wanted a pack and wolves aren’t usually ones to obey. 

the next morning harry is buzzing with excitement, waking up early to finish his chores as quickly as possible. he quickly takes to the garden, happily humming as he snips at the thorns on the roses. 

“why’re you so happy freak?” petunia snarls at him but harry grins, his good mood going undeterred.  _he is going to learn magic! in summer!_ harry’s never been allowed to do anything ‘freaky’ at the house without punishment but now grey is willingly teaching him. if grey can’t cast the spell, harry will learn to so he can help the man as repayment for helping harry. 

harry quickly finishes up the last rose, taking care even if he wants to decapitate each rose for keeping him away from greyback longer. he sighs happily, almost vibrating with excitement. 

he races down the street and into the woods to find mr grey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: Mr Grey  
> Greyback: who’s toddler is this?!


	3. the light from beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when it says ‘were’ in reference to greyback it’s the ‘were’wolf. it’s a bit confusing looking back on it 5 months later but you get it

“hedwig?” the first thing harry sees when he finds grey laying in the sun near the usual unlit fire-pit.  _ unlit fire-pit, hehe that rhymed_. harry shakes himself out of his thoughts to observe his snowy owl regally sitting on a very much disgruntled werewolves chest. 

“this bloody owl arrived this morning and won’t stop pestering me, it don’t have any letters or nothing. it’s weird though, most animals scatter when they get the slightest hint of a wolf, let alone a werewolf.” greyback says from underneath hedwig who hoots at him when he tries to move again. “alright, alright! chill out!” greyback grumbles and harry chuckles making grey fix him with a fierce glare. 

“this is hedwig, shes my owl.” he says softly as he lifts his arm letting hedwig fly over to him. she coos happily as she nudges against him, greyback watches on with intrigue. “i sent her to stay with the weasleys...” he mumbles under his breath after a minute because he had indeed sent her to the redheads for safety. “they didn’t hurt you did they?” he asks with furrowed brows and she manages to communicate ( _ somehow _ ) they hadn’t. as much as he loves the weasleys, he would never put them over hedwig, not for anything. he knows it sounds silly but this is his first friend, not ron, not hermoine and he’ll stand by her. 

“...is she your familiar?” greyback asks and harry looks at him strangely. 

“you mean like the old witches who cooked potions with black cats?” he asks slightly insulted for some reason. 

“no. merlin no, kid. what are they teaching you at that school?” he sighs exasperatedly. “a familiar is a... gift from mother magic. they’re given to a witch or wizard only once and are loyal to only their owners.” greyback says and harry screw his face up. 

“i don’t own hedwig... shes my friend.” harry says softly after a moment. hedwig chirps happily and pushes her head underneath his hand, coaxing him to pet her. he gives in with a snicker, rubbing his hand through her feathers as she ruffles happily. “she must like you though... she never lets anyone near her but me.” harry says quietly as greyback watches them wonder-filled. 

“you really are something kid...” he mutters in utter astonishment, he’d never seen any wizard treat an animal that well, especially one they owned. he supposes harry doesn’t exactly meet those claims though as he states a friendship instead with... hedwig. 

“wait how am i going to do magic? last time magic happened anywhere near me it was because of a house-elf dobby.” greyback looks at him in confusion, he could’ve sworn this was a muggle neighbourhood. “he was a malfoy elf and came to warn me about how i shouldn’t go back to hogwarts or something. i freed him at the end of the year anyways and he works for hogwarts now.” harry smiles softly despite himself, the elf had cheered him up when he was wallowing in self-pity. 

“you freed a malfoy elf?” harry nods confused. “dear merlin thats... okay, we’re not talking about this now. hand over your wand kid.” greyback says and harry nods despite wanting to know what the man had meant. 

he gently hands his wand over, feeling quite anxious and defenceless but overall vulnerable. he doesn’t like being without his wand, he’s not used to being without it now. greyback raises an eyebrow as the boy shifts on his feet cautiously, he watches the boy momentarily before pulling his own wand out. 

“now kid, i don’t want you sharing this spell around. the death eaters developed it in their youth and i don’t want a repeat of that disaster...  _denegando vestigium.” _greyback says and harry watches as his wand is briefly enveloped in light, breath caught in his throat. “now let’s test it...  _ incendio!_” greyback says as he casts with harry’s wand. it looks wrong however, harry’s wand is wrapped in his own magic and greybacks is clashing with it. 

it’s like rons old wand, while ron is a weasley and his brothers magic should be much more in tune with his own, charlie’s magic —not that harry’s met him, but from the wand evidence— is more mature and wiser. his magic also resembles a weasley, just an older one. harry’s always was slightly concerned when charlie’s magic would lash out of the broken wand and not rons. 

it’s slightly concerning with the ease greyback casts with, he’s pretty sure it’s alright for now though. rons extensive use of a wand that didn’t agree with him caused the wands core magic to lash out at him, denying his needs. although it was amusing at the time, it may have developed harmful consequences if he carried on using his brothers wand. that reminds him, he should talk to neville about his wand next year. 

when no ministry letters arrive immediately harry lets himself break the silence, “so i have a question...” slowly, not wanting to annoy the were. aforementioned man nods for him to go on. “what’s a death eater?” he asks, feeling dumber than usual for not being in the know. 

greyback looks at the boy in front of him with wide eyes, this boy looks like the mascot of innocence. he’s obviously not with his upbringing but greyback feels slightly guilty nonetheless for having to explain this. “the death eaters are voldemort’s followers. did your headmaster not tell you?” he’s pretty sure that’s vital information for someone like harry, he’s never really had an opinion on dumbledore but he’s really starting to dislike the man. harry’s head shake affirms his accusation. 

“you said these.. death eaters... made the spell, does that mean wizards and witches can create spells?” harry asks, his mind whirring with unlimited ideas. he could do so many things, he could make spells to defend himself with, ones that couldn’t be considered dark if they’re the golden boys creations. 

“it’s very advanced stuff but yes they can... do you want to create spells?” greyback watches the calculating look appear at the mention of spell-crafting. greyback has no doubt that the kid wants to create spells, but what type is a whole different story. 

“yes... i’d create ones that help in day to day life or are easier defense. what we learn at hogwarts is limited, i know this but i could create a spell to warp my marks so that my friends don’t get jealous while still doing my best.” he could get away with being better than hermoine without her knowing and isn’t that a magical thought. hermoines his friend and he never feels good when she starts lecturing him on things he already knows. 

greyback raises an eyebrow, he certainly didn’t expect that. it’s not a petty or harmful spell, he may go as far to say it’s protective. “kid, if i’m teaching you i don’t want you holding back at hogwarts at all. i want you to get the best grades possible. if your friends get jealous over marks, they aren’t really friends at all.” it’s true, if greyback is teaching harry magic he cannot let the boy limit himself. he knows harry can be great, he can feel the magic. it’s quite a shock that his friends would be jealous of school marks but he guesses it makes sense, harry is the boy-who-lived and magical folk hate anyone better than them. 

harry cringes slightly, he knows greyback is right, he knows ron and hermoine are ridiculously jealous for ‘friends’. he decides that maybe next year he should distance himself more, make friends throughout the other houses. they’re the only thing stopping him now and harry, for some reason, doesn’t want to disappoint mr grey at all. 

“so how does the patronus spell work?” harry shakes off the conversation, he never has been comfortable talking about his feelings. it’s not like he ever has talked about them anyways. who would he talk to? ron would complain about having it worse, hermoine would say he’s being selfish, dumbledore has already told him he’s exaggerating. it’s slowly becoming clearer how toxic these people are for him. 

greyback notices the change of direction in the conversation but decides to play along. for now of course, the boy can’t hide away forever. “you have to think of a happy memory. as a patronus isn’t a physical being the dementors can’t stop them and it’s currently the only defense against them. the incantation is  expecto patronum. centre yourself and copy my motions...” greyback instructs, shoeing harry the wand movement before stepping back to watch the boy attempt. 

harry closes his eyes, thinking of a memory he could use. the memories at hogwarts are all tainted and he surely can’t use one from the dursley’s. hedwig...

he smiles as he remembers hagrid handing him hedwig, his first friend, his beautiful companion. he lets the feelings of that day flood into his mind, his lips almost splitting from how unused to smiling he is. he raises his arm, his magic flowing down his arm and his wand purring happily at being used again, he hates to neglect his wand no matter who’s brother is it. he moves his arm slowly, copying the motions that greyback did, “ _ expecto patronum..._” he says softly, hearing hedwig hoot adding to the magic entering the atmosphere. 

he opens his eyes and watches in awe as a bright, misty light takes shape from his wand, curling around the tip of it before spreading out like a smoke cloud. he hears greyback open his mouth to talk but both of them stop as the cloud starts to take proper form. 

harry’s breath hitches as he watches the body form, fanciful at the detailed scales that slowly appear on the shapeless creature. the head takes shape and harry grins at the pointy, horn like ears, the snout extending downwards. the body follows, the patronus’ tail flicking out to brush against him. he gasps in delight as the bright magic momentarily fills him with glee, the translucent, blue tinted form coming together at once. 

“a dragon...” greyback whispers in shock, never did he expect the boys patronus to be a magical creature, those are extremely rare and to get it on the first try... he voices as much to aforementioned boy. 

harry flinches back at that, the patronus disappearing at once. “it’s..that’s not bad right?” he asks hesitantly and greyback shakes his head, speechless at the boys power. “are patronus’ only used for defense against dementors?” he asks, once again switching topics so that he doesn’t have to stand in horrible, tense silence. 

breaking out of his stupor, greyback replies, “no.. theyre also used to communicate. you can send messages to be relayed through them, very useful stuff.” he’s amazed at the boys lack of self confidence and humbleness. if this were any other magical child, the whole of wizarding britain would’ve heard them boasting about getting their patronus by now. he’s never heard of a mere twelve year old casting it and on the first try. 

greyback approaches harry with a book as the latter sits in front of the fire, the sun slowly starting to set over the tree line. he transfigures a rock into a wooden coffee table and sits on the log behind it, besides harry. he drops the book onto the desk with a loud thud, shocking harry out of his fire induced trance. 

flicking open the pages, greyback points to the moving image in the top corner. “this thing is a dementor.” harry’s surprised at greybacks accurate description of them being, “ _ they’re like black floating cloaks with skeleton hands, ugly bastards the lot  of ‘em” _ harry stares at the picture of azkaban, it looks like an abandoned castle haunted by the worst of hells own. no wonder they keep criminals there. 

“is being in dementors presence for an extended period of time the reason some people can’t cast a patronus?” it would make sense, harry muses. the things that flee from patronus’ would make those harmful incapable of casting the spell to protect themselves, it is after all, the survival of the fittest. even if they have no need to survive, being dead —what even is their state of living?— and all. 

“yeah... but some people never would be able to with the lack of proper happy memories.” it’s odd, the boy has most definitely been holding himself back. it’s alarming but amazing that the kid is able to make that deduction himself without prompt. “it’s awful really, it happens to the best of us.” and it does, the people who get the dementors kiss because they’re unable to produce the patronus charm are usually the nicest people you’ll find. 

“will you teach me how to fight? it’s just.. they all want me to fight voldemort and i get it, really. they need a hero to believe in. but i’m twelve years old and i’m not the most equipped to fight an almighty dark lord...” harry mumbles sheepishly. 

greyback can’t help but wonder how the boy deals with such a burden. how can a boy so young deal with the weight of the world thrust upon him? “i’ll make you a deal... i’ll teach you everything i can as long as you get the best grades you can.” it’s a win-win situation, greyback gets to pass on his knowledge and harry gets to be himself. 

harry tilts his head, “that was very slytherin of you. i know what you’re doing but i’ll agree anyways.” harry says with a grin. he sees the surprise flash across greybacks face momentarily and chuckles lightly, earning himself a (loving) backhanded slap to the head. 

“alright.. well seeing how well you just did with the patronus charm, i guess we should carry on doing spell-work for today.” greyback stands up, waving his wand to create an empty opening for them to practice spells in. “we’ll start with the more useful ones that you can adapt.” adapt, he’s sure the boy will. 

“aguamenti produces water from the tip of your wand,” greyback demonstrates, “ _ aguamenti!”_a small jet of water shoots out of his wand, arching towards the other side of the clearing. 

harry copies his movements and they go on like that for a while;  _ aguamenti, incendio, confringo, diffindo, engorgio, episkey (for harry’s benefit), evanesco, expelliarmus and locomotor._

greyback is astonished at the speed harry picks up the spells, watching the boy rip into the wooden target he’d conjured for the kid. greyback is sure now even if he wasn’t before, the boy is going to change everything. for better or for worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greyback: yes, I do think removing the trace on a twelve year olds wand is the correct thing to do.  
> Greyback: go me!  
> Harry: MAGIC


	4. anniversary of the birth date

waking up on the 31st of july, harry casts a quick tempus to reveal the time: 7:21am. over the past month harry has learnt so many things from greyback, he was also correct in his assumption of loving potions. with a competent teacher, he takes to potions like a duck to water, it’s all so natural and easy. greyback taught him many things, runes and arithmancy being his favourites. he’s already chosen divination and care of magical creatures the year before though so he’s decided to ask mcgongall to self study the subjects. 

he’s become more adapted to casting, he’s agile, quick on his feet after years of harry hunting. greyback also took the time to teach him some physical defense without wands, you can never rely on a wand too much. harry’s taken greys advice and now his wand never leaves him, if the dursleys knew that they’d flip. they’re already suspicious about his whereabouts during the day. 

harry grins when he spots the owls outside his window. he opens it, letting them fly in to land on his bed. animals, harry notices, have been very loving towards him lately. he has not the slightest idea why, but even the stray cats that claw at everyone end up wrapped around his shoulders while he’s gardening. it’s just another phenomenon in harry’s life, he’ll figure out the answer soon enough. 

he grins when he receives a gift from hagrid, the clumsy owl reminding him very much of his giant friend.  _the monsters book of monsters_.  hermoine got him a broom servicing kit and a book on how to do it yourself:  _Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare_ ,  quite literally. ron gives him a card (his first ever and it makes his heart hurt at the thought) a letter and a copy of the prophet —the weasleys won a trip to egypt apparently, didn’t they have a son working there? curse breaker, bill weasley? ron also gave him a pocket sneakoscope. the hogwarts owl is from mcgonogall, the yearly hogwarts letter with the list of books he’ll need and a permission slip for hogsmeade that needs signing. 

the last ones a bit more interesting, it’s hedwig and wasn’t hedwig with mr grey? harry smirks slightly. he gently takes the parcel from hedwig, letting her rest on his shoulder as he looks at the parcel. it’s quite hefty in weight and seems to have an extension charm on it somewhere, the thing absolutely swarms in magic. he finds a small pouch inside the wrapping with a note attached. 

‘ _kid, there’s almost a month left until school so i’m giving you until then to make that mark changing spell. i got you some other books you might be interested in too —mr grey_.’  harry snorts at the pseudonym, he guesses that’s what greyback will be using in their letters while he’s at hogwarts. 

harry’s eyes dance with wonder, a glint twirling across the green orbs as he pulls out a few books to get a feel for the bags contents. there’s books on advanced runes, arithmancy, potions and herbology. most importantly, there’s books on spell crafting. harry remember their conversation from a few weeks ago like it was yesterday. he checks the bag and sure enough he can see a whole plethora of books on spell casting, latin, french and greek books to help. looks like it’s time for harry to make a hobby of learning other languages. actually, that isn’t a bad idea. 

harry’s going to have so much fun with this!

making his way downstairs, harry yawns into his hand. his body still aches from the training grey put him through yesterday, hopefully today will be just theory because he’s not sure how much more strain his body can handle. harry stops near the tv, watching as the news plays. 

“mass murderer, sirius black has escaped prison—“ harry shrugs, that’s not his problem —if only he knew then. he makes his way into the kitchen to prepare breakfast as per usual, which is ridiculous because it’s his birthday. they don’t even get him anything and to be frank he’s grateful for that. 

thinking about it now, the name sirius black makes something tickle in the back of his head that he can’t quite reach. it’s annoying but right now harry would rather concentrate on a lesson with greyback. 

so after fixing up breakfast he heads off down the path to his, now, daily commute to the forest. 

he stops abruptly when he reaches the end of the street, there’s a dog growling, looking him straight in the eyes. he reaches his magic out towards the dog. strange, he must admit. this isn’t a half human, half animal. this is most definitely a magical being though. he crouches down slightly, eyeing the way the dog moves sloppily. 

his magic flares up and he watches the dog stop growling slightly in confusion. a magical creature then, it seems those have been reacting to him peculiarly as of lately. 

the dog approaches him and the dogs magic feels familiar. the briefest glimpse of a flying motorbike flashes through his head, like those he had when he was little. the bike was covered in the same magic, he’s sure of it. 

harry gently reaches out, letting the dog nuzzle his hand. “i’m harry, harry potter.” he says and watches as the dogs eyes widen, and it whines. he recognises the dog as a grim from one of the books mr grey had him read on magical creatures, albeit the darker ones. “it’s a wonder you’re in a suburb like this when there’s no churches around for miles. i would know too, i’ve been to every single one of them, my aunt wanted to exorcise the magic out of me.” harry chuckles bitterly. he despises churches with a passion, the dog growls lowly. 

for years petunia would take him to different churches, some even in different cities to try and cure his ‘freakishness’. the priests would strap him to the table and chant from the bible as they poured searing hot wax on him in horrible lines. funnily enough, his magic made the scars faint and now they match up with his ribs. they’re nothing more than glittery lines on his skin now, blending in with his milky skin. the priests would curse him, naming him a demon as he refused to cry out underneath the scorching wax. petunia would drive like a madwoman afterwards, harry was always sure they’d get into a car crash. 

the churches all knew him as he knew them, he had trouble remembering their names until he saw them face to face again. a couple of the times he’d gone grocery shopping for petunia he’d come across a priest and they’d drop anything in their hands, holding up their rosemary beads that supported a little cross in his face, screaming about evil and satan. obviously, harry isn’t evil in any way. well he doesn’t think he is anyways and he can’t think of a single wizard or witch who considers him such. even after the murder of quirell. 

harry follows the dogs eyes to his own face, reaching his hand up to feel the small scratch that puffs out angrily on his cheekbone. aunt petunia never did take off her wedding ring, no matter how fake the thing is. he’s sure the ring is actually made of copper as it reacts with the salt in the cleaner she uses on it (it doesn’t clean anything) and has turned a horrible greenish colour on his aunts finger, her skin underneath staining the same colour. it’s actually quite surprising she hasn’t demanded something of higher standard at this point but perhaps she’s just embarrassed to take it off. or maybe she’s scared of vernon. it’s possibility after all. 

“my aunt never removes her disgusting wedding ring.” he answers the dog, an unusual flash of anger, seeing as the dog shouldn’t understand him, flashes through the grey eyes.

he looks up when he smells smoke and finds mr grey must’ve just put out the fire to ward away strangers. it had a convincing way of making the forest look on fire, no one ever called the authorities though. “that’s my queue!” harry chuckles quietly standing up much to the dogs confusion, as much is displayed in the silver orbs. “unless you have a way to hide your magic from a werewolf, i suggest you don’t follow me.” the dog barks in surprise, grabbing harry’s —greys shrunken— jumper in its jaw, yanking harry back. 

harry’s warmed by the dogs protectiveness and as the dog perked up at his name earlier, he has the suspicion this dog knows who he is. it’s obvious the dog doesn’t work for dumbledore though or he wouldn’t be here, dumbledore leaves him unguarded even though he’s a saviour. quite silly if you ask him because look who he ended up befriending —a mass murderer whos victims are usually children. ironic isn’t it? 

“don’t worry, i’ll see you again. the werewolf won’t bite me, mr greys teaching me magic to defend myself against moldyshorts.” the dogs relaxes, barking out laughter at the butchered name. he starts to walk away after petting the dog one last time.

just as he reaches the forest entrance, he turns to make sure the dog hasn’t followed him. the dog hasn’t and harry smiles. “i’ll find out who you are too, don’t you worry.” harry grins sharply as the dog jumps in confusion and turns on his heel before the dog can run after him. 

he realises why the magic is so familiar now, the dog is like mcgonogall, at least that’s what it feels like. he’s not quite sure yet, but with the way the dog reacted, it’s obvious he was right. now he has another side project besides the spell for greyback. 

harry doesn’t mention the dog when he finally reaches greyback, determined to find out answers for himself. he’s also a bit too shocked to find the usually barefoot man, who never wears more than a t-shirt an shorts —something about werewolves having thick skin? he’ll have to research it more later now because this makes him curious— in trousers, lace up boots and a thick jumper with a black cloak that obscures his figure. 

“happy birthday kid!” greyback greets him and his teeth are sharp but his smile is warm. harry gives him a gentle smile back, a true smile he’s reserved for those close to him. the were had his hands in his pockets, his hand clenched painfully obviously around his wand ( _ the one used to cast spells! get your mind out of the gutter! _ ) inside. 

“are you going somewhere mr grey?” harry asks innocently as he takes out his wand to play with the fish in the water, swirling the water around in fish like figures and watching the live ones chase after the moving water that’s only visible by the frothy bubbles that outline the fake fish. greyback snorts slightly at the childish use of magic, harry’s grown on him in the past month. 

“ _ I’m _ not going anywhere.  _ we _ , however, are going to the market.” greyback tells him and harry grins. they’d been to the market a few times since they’d met, or more, harry had insisted on going with greyback ‘incase the dementors came’. harry was curious about how greyback got his food, the market answered his questions. it’s a quizzical market, further back in the stalls you can find books on magic while the forefront is full of muggles. harry didn’t need to ask where greyback got the books for his birthday, he’d seen some of them in the stalls. greyback did tell him he couldn’t show anyone at hogwarts though,  _ illegality _ and all that fun stuff. 

greyback taught harry glamours in their second week, a day before the trip to the market. harry is always baffled by how much greyback trusts him to learn quickly. 

when they’re there they usually pick up books and potions ingredients so that harry can learn how to brew properly. he’s gotten a good grasp on it by now. greyback says he’s a brilliant protégée; harry can’t quite believe him after years of being taught by snape. it’s nice being taught by greyback, a big contrast from being taught by the grumpy potions master. harry commends his skills though, youngest potions master in britain is quite a feat. 

“lets go then!” harry grins and pulls the dark green cloak out of his trunk that greyback has bought him to hide his own identity on top of the glamours and powerful notice-me-not charms. he always gets harry to cast the notice-me-not charm. apparently harry’s magic holds much longer and is more powerful than his own. harry thinks it’s how the years at azkaban affected him because the man is strikingly sane and has the most common sense than harry’s ever seen or heard of. 

“hey ive been meaning to ask, do you think it’d be wise to learn those languages to make spell crafting easier?” harry asks as they venture away from the camp, if anyone did notice their apparition, they’d need time to flee. not that the ministry keeps track of any magic in the forest. harry’s sure there’s more magical creatures in there than greyback realises. 

“i don’t think kid, i know.” being around greyback is a breath of fresh air for harry. his sarcastic, blunt nature is so refreshing against the plastic personalities of all the other wizards and witches who want nothing more than his name. harry chuckles and nods, he’ll do his very best to make greyback as proud as he can. besides, learning new languages doesn’t seem that hard when they have magic.

“it’s so strange to see you actually wearing clothes! ...don’t take that out of context.” harry mumbles as greyback barks out a throaty laugh. he blushes out of embarrassment and scowls when greyback ruffles his hair with an amused smile. 

“hold on kid.” greyback says as he holds out his hand. harry grumbles, flushing still as he grabs onto greybacks hand, letting the man apparate them to the edge of the market. 

harry stumbles when they land, only staying upright with the help of greybacks hand. greyback has learnt in the past few weeks that despite harry being agile and a quick learner, he’s clumsy by nature. apparition also isn’t the best way to travel if you’re the kid. “i hate apparition” harry complains as he steadies himself with his hands on his knees, pale faced from travel sickness. 

harry always does find it amusing when muggles accidentally pick up on wizarding terms, travel sickness for example. sure the wizards get used to their methods of travel eventually but the younger children and the muggleborns always have it bad. the muggles, however, never stop having travel sickness if they have it to begin with. 

“so what’re we here for today?” harry asks as he looks around, his eyes tracking the people’s movements as he moves alongside greyback unnoticed. greyback keeps a hand on his shoulder, something he’d started doing after a visit that happened last week. a man had grabbed harry while he wasn’t focused and dragged him into an alleyway. harry froze up, something greyback would later scold him for, and greyback came to save him. if the man ended up disappearing (dead), well no one was any the wiser. 

harry always loves visiting the market, the dark magic greyback was teaching him enabled him to glamour his scar —something he wishes he’d known about sooner—and change his eye colour to match greybacks sky blue in case they were caught. harry hates that scar, he hates it. greyback knows he does to, he hadn’t tried to touch it since the first time. he still has the claw mark from harry’s nails down his arm, something he’s vaguely proud of the boy for, after all werewolf skin is extremely tough. 

greyback on the other hand reluctantly covers up the scars on his face from his time as a wild wolf. he believe his scars are a reminder of the monster he is —harry definitely doesn’t subtly compliment him as much as possible— or well, believes he is. what type of monster teaches a, now, thirteen year old out of free will? not a very good one. 

harry had reluctantly asked about the scars a while ago. grey told him if you push your wolf down far enough then on the nights of the full moon the wolf will try to claw its way out of its own skin to free of the restraints. horrified was an understatement of how harry felt at hearing that. 

greyback looks at harry with a raised eyebrow, “it’s your birthday kid, i’ve got a surprise for you!” harry’s head snaps up, greyback had given him presents this morning, he knew harry was thankful even if he didn’t say it. he’d forced harry to stop saying thank you after the first week of training, the boy has the purest heart greybacks ever seen. 

“what! no—no you’ve already done enough for me—“ harry immediately starts to protest and greyback sighs, the boy really needs to think higher of himself. 

“then do it for me...” harry knows what greybacks doing, the man won by a long shot. harry can never deny greyback of anything —unless it’s not reasonable of course. he trusts the man and nods with an exaggerated huff. greyback grins victoriously and angles harry’s shoulder so that he moves into an alleyway offside. its come to harry’s attention that the man won’t turn his back to harry, not out of fear, but out of protectiveness over harry. it never fails to make harry feel warm and fuzzy with long forgotten feelings. he says it’s long forgotten; he’s never actually felt anything like it before. 

they come to a halt outside a shop. it’s looks abandoned, black tinted windows and it’s practically falling apart at the seems. harry can’t help but grin, he’s learnt never to judge on appearance from a young age, something the leaky cauldron taught him. “we’re here.” greyback opens the door, it screeches heavily along the creaky floorboards and harry jumps inside the shop happily, beaming up at the man behind the counter. he’s not afraid of this man, he’s fought voldemort twice for goodness sake and he’s pretty confident in his training by now. 

he looks up to find the man staring wide eyed at them as greyback pulls down his hood with a feral grin. harry giggles a little insanely but he can’t help it, he can’t imagine ever being afraid of the big softie that is greyback. “i’ve come for the potion i ordered.” greyback grunts and harry snorts at the nonchalance of the man. 

“y-yes sir! right away!” he scurries into a room through a door behind the counter and harry hops onto the window sill, leaning against the blacked out window. 

“so what potion did you get mr grey?” harry asks softly as he takes in the gothic aesthetic of the room. jars of frogs eyes and witches fingers lining the shelves, floating in green liquid. cardboard boxes still taped shut scattered around the room, lining the stairs that no doubt lead upstairs. maybe the owners live up there. maybe they’ve just moved in and that’s why there’s so many boxes. 

“that’s a secret kiddo.” greyback says in the softest voice he can manage. harry’s the only one he talks to like this, he’s become a soft spot of the man much to said mans dismay. he can’t have old voldemort killing his kid, not now he’s become so attached. he’d told himself not to get attached but the boys an angel. an angel he doesn’t deserve maybe, but an angel nonetheless. the essence of innocence. 

the quiet is filled by only harry’s quiet humming for the next few minutes before the stocky man shuffles back in through the door, holding out the bag to greyback, the potion inside. “thank you for your cooperation.” greyback blanks politely and ushers harry back outside, into the market. 

harry walks at greybacks side as they look at each separate stall. there’s always new ones every time they come here and they like to observe the newer folks. harry holds the basket they always bring while greyback buys the food that he’ll later put a statis charm on. the door harry had seen inside the cave had turned out to be a bathroom and the other a storage cupboard so they made due with cooking on the fire. harry loves to cook on the fire, it gives the food a smoky taste that can’t truly be replicated with magic in any way. 

they come across one of the magical stalls that has a muggle repelling charm and looks like an average book stall to any of the muggles passing by. harry’s never seen wizards so interwoven with the muggles but they still don’t look too happy about it. 

the stall owner watches as the duo approach and some of the screaming books start to quiet down as harry gently brushes his hand over the top. his head snaps across the stall as he hears the familiar hissing of parseltongue. he jumps, wand in hand ready to fight voldemort before being unable to spot the man or the teenage version. 

his eyes eventually land on a book, snakes covering the front and he feels his magic pull him towards it. he smiles as the book thrums underneath his hand, the snake hissing happily and trying to coil around his hand. “the book must like you, usually never lets anyone touch it without a nasty curse, even me.” harry hums at the shopkeepers words and picks the book up, clutching it to his chest. 

the shopkeeper turns to greyback with wide eyes, “you sure you want your kid anywhere need dark magic like that?” he asks but greyback shrugs, not denying the ‘your kid’ comment. harry buys the book, keeping his face blank to any protests the shopkeeper makes before he inevitably gives in and harry hugs the book protectively you his chest. the book warming against his skin, happy at being near a parselmouth, somehow able to sense it. harry knows he hasnt spoken serpent tongue here so they must have a way of sending him otherwise the shopkeeper might die of a heart attack. 

“why’re you so attached to that book?” he asks harry as they browse a muggle book stall further down, letting harry flick through the books on flowers. he observes harrys tight hold with a raised eyebrow, he saw the way harry practically gravitated towards the book out of instinct. 

“it called to me.” he says cryptically. last time anyone found out he was a parselmouth, the whole school turned on him and his best friends could never hide their disgust. 

“in what way?” greyback sees the way harrys body stiffens at the question, the boy in question gulping harshly as his eyes flicker around the store. “kid it can’t be that bad, besides you can’t get rid of me that easily!” he says as he throws an arm around the twitching figure of the boy. 

“i’m a parselmouth...” the boy whispers quietly, rereading the paragraph on the ‘creeping buttercup’ again so he doesn’t have to see the revolt in greybacks eyes. it hurts to know that the person he calls his favourite now will leave because of harrys freakishness. 

his chin is grabbed harshly and he’s yanked to look into greybacks blue eyes. the mans eyes glint underneath his hood as he stares at harry and harry exhales harshly, looking down instead of at the man. “look at me kid.” harry hesitantly meets the mans eyes, biting down on his lip harshly. “god they really fucked you over kid. i will never throw you away because of something like that. parseltongue is a gift kid and i won’t hate you for it. i’m finding it’s impossible to hate you anyways...” greyback grunts the last bit and harry snickers, his shoulders finally relaxing. 

greyback pulls him into a hug, harry yelps in surprise. affection is barely involved in harrys life and he tenses on impulse. eventually he lets go of the tension and practically melts into greybacks arms. “thanks mr grey...” harry whispers and he knows his voice is as filled with emotion as he is. he was prepared to be thrown away and that was that, he hadn’t expected greyback to except his gift. 

greyback pulls away, his eyes sparkling with something as he smiles softly at harry. harry blinks, the man almost looks like he’s fond of harry. “let’s go home kid, i still have that surprise for you.” and then they’re leaving the market, drifting unnoticed through the crowds. 

it’s around midday when they get back to the camp, harry flopping down on his back as he tries still to reorientate himself from the last round of side along apparition. greyback huffs out a guttural laugh as he spies harry before turning into the cave to put his things away. 

“kid get up, i’ve got something for you!” greyback commands as he comes back outside to see harry still laying underneath the sun. harry squints at him through the harsh glare of the light reflecting on his glasses and hoists himself up. he glares at greyback and the man sits in front of him. 

in greybacks hands is the bag from the store earlier with the potion inside, he eyes it suspiciously. “drink it.” greyback demands as he hands it over to harry. harry trusts greyback so he takes the position with a sigh and uncorks it. 

“is it poisonous?” he asks skeptically and grey levels him with an unamused glare. the boy rolls his eyes and drinks the potion, sparing a thought to the green colour of the liquid. 

his vision blurs rapidly and he puts his hands behind himself to steady his body.  _ this is it, he’s dying _ . he sways and faintly feels a pair of large hands steadying him. his eyes burn and tears rise without much force, willing away the pain. he clenches his hands and breathes harshly, clinging to the body holding him up instead of depending on the floor. 

slowly, the pain diminishes and harry waits for a few moments before moving. his vision is blurry, blurrier than normal and he frowns as he looks to greyback, the man a blob of colour. he wipes at his eyes, successfully knocking his glasses off and opens his eyes again. 

he blinks, when did his glasses make everything so clear. he reaches up to see if greyback spelled his glasses while he was ...dying but doesn’t feel them on his face. 

it’s then he realises that he can see without glasses. he gasps and turns to greyback whos watching him with mild amusement and concern. “what was that potion?” he asks cautiously, taking in every detail of the forest he couldn’t see before. 

“sight replenishing potion.” harry squeals and jumps at greyback, throwing his arms around the mans neck, thanking him profusely. 

“you don’t know how much this means to me! although dumbles will be suspicious at the sudden loss of my glasses... i can’t of gone to diagon alley and i’m not sure how legal that potion is.” he winces, he feels like he sounds ungrateful but greyback seems to understand. 

“that’s why i’m going to spell your glasses into something else,” greyback says before pulling his wand out and casting multiple spells on the glasses. the frames stay the same but more rigid and the glass shimmers as the magic hits them. “i’ve made them unbreakable and the glass isn’t prescription anymore, though i doubt it was the right one anyways. i’ve spelled the glass to unable any legilimens to read you through your eyes. even with our occlumency training, i don’t want any chance of that old fool finding out.” harry nods. occlumency has been something he struggles with badly, he just can’t grasp the actually application. 

“now this is another gift i guess...  _ portus _ !” the frames of the glasses shimmer with greys magic. “i’ve made them into a portkey that’ll take you here whenever you’re in trouble.. you just need to set a password now.” he says and harry beams at him. 

“ _wolf_! ” harry hisses in parseltongue and starts giggling to himself. 

“what’d you say?” greyback asks curiously. 

“i set the password as wolf in parseltongue.” harry says with a snort and greyback looks at him incredulously. 

“brat...” greyback mumbles fondly with a half hearted glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: lol sirius black isn’t my problem  
> Harry sees grim: DOG  
> Harry: VISION! SIGHT! GLORIOUS WONDERS OF THE WORLD! MY EYES ARE RESTORED!


	5. taming the unknown

the pocket library —as he’s dubbed it— from greyback turned out to be a godsend. harrys insomnia keeps him up late and he takes that chance to educate himself more. the books inside are filled with knowledge on all types of magic and harry thinks he might’ve fallen in love... with the books. silly. 

he wear his glasses on his head when he’s alone, enjoying the way his eyes look when they aren’t behind glass. his cheekbones have always been high but are more prominent without the frames hiding them. he also continues to glamour his scar, practicing to lessen the amount of magic put into glamours. 

his favourite book by far is the parseltongue one from the market. the book is about dark magic and rituals, all he has to do is whisper a subject in parseltongue and the book eagerly finds the page on the task. he carries the book with him everywhere now, feeling closer to his true nature by carrying it in his pocket, even if it is shrunk. according to zia, the snake who protects the book, she disguises it as an algebra book to the muggles. 

harry adores learning about the different kinds of creatures. ever since meeting greyback he’s wanted to learn everything he can about magic in general but specifically the magical creatures. 

he sees the grim around the park sometimes and starts bringing little sandwiches with him to give to whoever it is. the dog is skin and bones, it painfully reminds harry of his own physique that’s hidden underneath greybacks clothes. 

he’s finally finished his first spell with the help of the books inside the pocket library —he’d have to be careful to never let hermoine near it now that he thinks about it. just a week ago greyback had given him the books on his birthday and he’d been thoroughly warned to create a counter charm for any spells if they weren’t temporary. he’s gone over the theory for the past two days and is now on his way to show greyback. 

he waves to the black dog laying underneath the park bench with a grin before running into the forest to find greyback. 

“mr grey! i’ve finished the spell!” he calls cheerfully, an uncommon emotion on harry. he’s happy around greyback sure but he’s starting to realise he needs to hide his emotions more incase they upset someone —or so he doesn’t accidentally get so angry he kills someone, but hey-ho. 

greyback looks up from where hes lighting the fire, the sun starting to set in the hours of early evening. “already?” he asks with furrowed brows. 

“well i haven’t tested them yet, but here!” he says and hands his notebook he’d dedicated to spells over to the werewolf. he sits next to greyback on the log, pulling out his wand to light the fire himself. 

he watches greybacks face slowly flicker in surprise, his eyes widening as his eyebrows raise slowly. “this is impressive work kid, let’s test it then,” greyback says as he transfigures a quill and parchment from the rocks nearby. he writes a big ‘o’ in the middle of the page and turns it to harry. 

“ _corium marcas_! ” sure enough, the big ‘o’ slowly turns into an ‘a’. he grins at greyback who’s face is still in shock. “ _revelio marcas_! ” he counters the charm and the original mark shows up again. he faces greyback, eagerly waiting for the mans opinion. 

“some wizards never even manage to get around to learning spell craft and those who do don’t succeed until they’re in their adult years. kid you turned thirteen a week ago... you really are something...” harry flushes under the praise and mumbles about it not really being that hard in the end. “just keep creating kid, you’re going to be great someday and not because you defeated some dark lord as a babe.” he chides and harry jokingly salutes to greyback who just rolls his eyes and flicks harry in between the eyes, glasses resting in his hair again. 

“i promise mr grey!” harry says with a grin that could rival a cheshire cat. 

“so what’re you gonna do about choices then kid? you’ve probably already chosen and now you’re probably not going to want to do the ones you chose.” greyback says as he leans back to place his hands on the grass behind him. 

“i’m thinking about asking mcgonogall to self study runes and arithmancy because i took care of magical creatures —which i refuse to drop— and divination. if i dropped either of them ron would throw a fit and hermoine would start interrogating me. so i’ll ask if i can just get essays and work schedule from the teachers instead. mcgonogall will probably agree, she’s not helpful when we’re in danger but she most definitely has a soft spot for me otherwise i would’ve been expelled in first year instead of being put on the quidditch team —not that i regret anything.” 

“that is the most sly thing i’ve ever heard you say,” greyback chortles. “but yes, that’s actually a very good idea because it won’t cause suspicion. if you asks mcgonogall to keep it private so that hermoine doesn’t get jealous, dumbledore might very well never hear of it either!” he speaks with a ferocious grin and harry rolls his eyes at the mans self pride. 

“mr grey, did you ever go to hogwarts?” harry asks. he’s heard about people from greybacks past, but never has he mentioned hogwarts. 

“no i didn’t, i was too busy trying to build a pack. the only reason i know the students is because of the death eater meetings.” he admits. he’d admitted to being a death eater a long time ago, after the second full moon, harry never held it against him. 

the second full moon is something they haven’t really talked about since it happened. the blue moon only occurs once a year and it was when harry met greyback in the first place so the second full moon was about two weeks after that. greyback hadn’t expected harry to come be with him on the full moon that night but harry desperately didn’t want to leave the man alone. 

greyback hadn’t attacked harry. harrys magic is calming for his wolf, like a security blanket. harry had conjured his patronus and to greybacks surprise the patronus started to play with him in his wolf form. harry had sat to the side, holding his leg too tight to be uninjured —something they fixed the next day. he’d floated water balls around for the wolf to chase. 

“why didn’t you attack me in the second moon?” harry asks, he can’t quite understand why a bloodthirsty werewolf turns into a whining puppy around him to be honest. 

greyback is quiet for a moment and harry grimaces slightly thinking he’s overstepped but the man eventually answers. “my wolf is calmed by your magic... considers you a cub...” greyback mumbles, looking anywhere but harry. 

harrys eyes light up and he gapes in shock. for a werewolf to consider a human a cub there has to be a heavy bind between the two, intimately or platonically. obviously it’s platonically between harry and greyback but it’s still surprising to hear nonetheless. “that’s...good?” harry asks with his face scrunched up. he’s not quite sure what to think of that, he’s never really had anyone care about him to the point of it being considered a string bond before. greyback snorts at harrys bluntness and ruffles his hair. harry yelps and glares at grey in protest. 

harry decided to stay with greyback for the night. he’s done this quite a few times now after draining days of training or when it’s been too late for greyback to trust him to go alone. harry burrows in the furs on greybacks bed next to the man, platonically of course. the man seems to find the cave unbearably warm and smothers harry in the furs to keep the small boy warm in the cold that everyone else feels. 

greyback is snoring next to him and harry snorts at the sight of the man hanging slightly off the edge. the bed is big enough, they’d even expanded it when there had been plenty of room before. they’re both restless sleepers though and move around a lot in fitful sleep. 

harrys eyes snap to the exit as he hears the sound of something moving through the air, shallow whistling emanating from whatever it is. he spells his feet silent and slowly gets up, his eyes seeing considerably well in the dark now thanks to the potion. 

he silently pushes the drapes across, stepping out into the moonlit clearing. the next full moon isn’t for another week so it’s definitely not a werewolf making that noise —beside the only were around is greyback and he’s in bed. 

harry spots it then, hovering near the edge of the water. his mind replays the first encounter with greyback in his head as he slowly raises his wand. it looks like a dementor to him, greybacks still inside and he doesn’t want the thing anywhere near him. 

he flicks his wand, casting a silent patronus and his dragon erupts from his wand. the thing freezes and his patronus hovers over it, deeming it harmless. harry makes his way over, the closer he gets the more confused he is. 

it looks like a dementor, yet not fully. it looks like some distant relative of the evil bastards that remove peoples souls. 

he sits down next to the thing, crossing his legs as he spreads his magic out to envelop the thing. it’s magic feels dark, not like a dementor should feel though. the air isn’t cold and he can still feel happiness. 

with furrowed brows harry reaches forward, gingerly touching the corner of the thing. the thing itself is cold and harry sure it’s somehow related to a dementor. the thing purrs and nudges closer to his hand. it looks like a black cloak, darker than a dementor and more solid. he’s unsure of how he even spotted it in the first place with how camouflaged it is in the night. 

“what are you?” he asks fascinated in the way it hovers, it’s body rippling in excitement. it’s cloak like body is thick, at least an inch. the thing curls around his hand and harrys surprised at how warm he feels despite the surface being cold. he realises after a moment the thing has its own magic and isnt attacking harry with it. “i guess i’m stuck with you as well huh?” he asks and the thing bobs in agreement as harrys dragon curls up besides him as he continues to inspect the creature. 

the next morning, greyback wakes in the early hours and finds harry isn’t in bed. he walks outside and chokes when he sees harry with the thing. “kid get away from that!” he screeches and harry jumps in surprise, the thing jumping protectively in front of harry. 

“what? it hasn’t hurt me.” harry pouts and greyback stares in amazement. “do you know what it is?” he asks greyback as the cloaks resumes curling around harrys body in fluid motion much to the boys amusement. 

“that’s a lethifold, they literally live on human flesh.” he manages to choke out and harry raises an eyebrow at the creature. “how the fuck did you tame one?” he hisses, his heart just now calming down enough to approach the boy. 

“i came out here last night when i heard a noise and ive been with it ever since. i think i should name it, it won’t be leaving me anyways.” harry says and if to make a point the lethifold wraps tightly around harrys wand arm in protest. “how about... nyx?” the creature purrs and harry laughs, “nyx it is.”

“anyways mr grey, nyx looks just like a normal cloak so who’s to tell me i can’t take... her to hogwarts. she won’t harm anyone, from what i’ve seen these past few hours she only eats animals.” the lethifold bobs in agreement and greyback sighs. 

“alright, whatever but if she eats your classmates, i was never involved.” greyback sighs exasperatedly. harry snorts but nods accepting the terms. 

greyback purposely ignores the lazing lethifold that curls up in harrys lap as he teaches the boy. “so today, i’m gonna teach you about magical theory. light, grey and dark. the good, the bad and the evil of magic basically.” 

“i’ve been thinking a lot about that actually... i don’t really understand the difference between light and dark. i’ve never told anyone but i’ve always thought magic is just magic. i mean i get that dark spells are hurtful but they were made for a reason. it’s like crucio, it was made to help patients in hospital like a muggle defibrillator. light spells can be just as bad though i mean you can use wingardium leviosa to throw a boulder at a troll and kill it.” 

greyback stares at the boy in amazement, “youve just made this lesson so much better for me kid.” he says with a feral grin. “there really is no difference between light and dark except what the ministry class it as. magic is magic, it’s the intent that matters. while you’re at hogwarts though you better not get caught using any dark or illegal spells. grey is fine though.” he tells harry who nods in understanding, taking note of the loophole he was provided. 

“what about my spells though? some of them are quite cruel but they can’t label a spell made by the golden boy as dark.” harry smiles innocently but grey can see the mischievous and darkness in his green eyes, without glasses is even more clear. 

“merlin kid, you could probably murder an entire country and they would say it was needed.” greyback snorts. “you’re right though, now tell me about some of these cruel spells...” he commands and harry pulls out his notebook. 

“ _nervus_ _laceratio_ , it’s a tendon tearing spell. it hurts like hell and can be used in duels i guess. it’s more of a distraction more than anything.” he cuts off his rant with an awkward cough and greyback barks out a laugh. this spell is extraordinarily far from light for someone called the golden boy. 

“you, kid, are a specimen and I’ll never regret bringing that part of you to the surface.” he says with a chuckle. “you better send me lists of spells while you’re at hogwarts, i want to be the first to use them, besides yourself of course!” harry nods as if he has a choice with a snicker. 

“it’s a temporary spell in a way so i didn’t make a counter because there’s already healing spells that can fix it.” he explains and greyback nods. “i read about it and as long as it has no permanent changes you don’t need something to reverse the spells.” he admits at the slightly suspicious look on greybacks face. 

“makes sense.” the were shrugs. “just don’t go around cursing everyone and straining your magic.” he warns. 

later that day they reside in one of the muggle cafes that greyback introduced harry too. it’s a cosy little place filled with warm beige tones and the owners cat lays curled up besides harry, nyx acting as a pillow for the cat. “i’m surprised she hasn’t eaten the cat...” greyback mumbles but harry hears him and snorts. 

“she seems to prefer fruit actually...” he tells him.earlier in the day she’d nicked fruit from harrys plate at breakfast, blatantly ignoring the bacon and ham. “tell me about your friends?” harry asks because he loves the way the weres eyes light up as he tells tales of his time as being a death eater or his younger years with the pack. 

“there was this one ravenclaw, barty crouch jr, he was amazing in everything he did. he had this nervous tick that always gave him away when he was nervous because he couldn’t stop licking his lips. he had so much potential, it’s a real shame he became a death eater. his talents could’ve taken him great places but he died in azkaban year’s ago from what i’ve heard...” he watches the longing and pain shimmer in the mans eyes. it’s a new emotion on the werewolf but harrys not complaining. he’d struggled at first to read greybacks emotions but now reading people comes naturally to him and he’s free to casually observe people. he’s never heard about this crouch person though, he should look into the awards at hogwarts for any resemblance to find a memoir for the man. 

“he was the smallest and friendliest of us all. everyone gravitated towards him just to cheer themselves up. after a while the boy started to close himself off though and we never have found out why... i reckon it was that nasty father of his!” greyback snarls and harry can feel the mans magic pressure slowly rising as if it’ll lash out anytime soon. 

they’re in a muggle establishment and harry does not want to attract any obliviaters here to find him with a werewolf. more importantly; his lemon cake would be destroyed. he gently places his hand, palm up on the table. concentrating all of his magic, he slowly conjures up a flower, hiding it from the muggles views. 

it’s a gorgeous purple gladiolus flower, darkening in colour towards the edges. the flower represents sensitivity, like the name bartemius —barty is no doubt shortened from its original form. merlin knows harry would shorten that mess of a name. 

greybacks magic is subdued now and the man is staring at him in shock. “bartemius represents sensitivity; a gladiolus —this flower— also represents that. i thought it might calm you down...” he explains, as if he’s answering greys questioning look. he takes the mans hand and places the dainty flower in his large palm, smiling up at the man full of childish innocence. 

“did— did you just use wandless magic?” the man breathes and harry nods, he hadn’t realised himself until the man said so. he doesn’t like using this form of magic that much, it makes his core feel trapped and stuck inside himself. “that’s... only the most powerful wizards can use that for anything other than summoning their wand. to conjure a flower so effortlessly...” the man examines the flower in awe. he gasps, “this is a real flower, like alive!” he chokes out. harry nods with a sigh. 

“it’s actually quite hard to do, i prefer not to use my magic without my wand because it physically hurts like at the end of a training session, my magic always feels so trapped inside me...” harry confesses, he’s been meaning to ask the man about that. 

“your magic feels.. trapped?” greyback asks lowly and harry nods, gently massaging his wrist to soothe the magic that still thrums underneath his skin. “explain!” the wolf demands. this seems to be a far more serious matter than harry believed. 

“when i was little, around the age of ...maybe six? my magic freaked out at me. i don’t remember exactly what happened except when smoky clouds surrounded me and i passed out. when i woke up my magic felt as though it had been pushed down, like someone forced it back inside. it used to run across my skin freely until that day, now it hurts sometimes to try and reach my magic.” he shrugs, he doesn’t see what the big deal is. he’d never told anyone about this; that’s how insignificant it was to him —not that he’d ever had anyone to tell before the man in front of him. 

“hey kid... have you ever gone to gringotts?” he asks, his eyes showing the rage his face conceals. nyx hums against his leg, trying to soothe his nerves as the cat grumbles at the cloak. 

“i went once, when i was eleven. we didn’t stay there long, just got money from my trust vault with the key hagrid got from dumbledore. then we got the philosophers stone and left...” harry shudders slightly at the memory of the stone. it ruined his first year at hogwarts and then it was destroyed, killing its creator for the ‘greater good’. 

“i believe a trip to diagon is in order, i need to visit gringotts about something and you’re coming with me!” he snarls and harry raises an eyebrow, nodding hesitantly. 

“do you want to use my invisibility cloak while i use nyx? it’s undetectable to even dumblebore...” harry says and greyback snorts despite his train of thoughts. they take their drinks to go: greyback, black coffee and harry, ice tea —a newfound love for the drink after being introduced by greyback. 

if he’s correct, merlin help the person who dared touch his kid, greyback thinks to himself darkly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NYX IS VERY IMPORTANT! MUCH GOOD GIRL!
> 
> Nyx: ...  
> Harry: I agree, let’s keep you  
> Greyback: ...that’s not a dog  
> Harry: lets keep her :)  
> Greyback: okAY   
> Harry: but you know what’s wild? This weird cagey feeling  
> Greyback: WHAT! ILL COMIT MASS MURDER!!!!


	6. of truths and troubles

harry snickers underneath nyxs cloak as he feels greyback a hand clench on his shoulder every time a persons gaze passes over them —it’s not like they can see the duo, nyx contorts shadows to camouflage them, blending them in blaring daylight. 

diagon alley is currently experiencing the down after rush hour. harry spies a few wizarding children but apart from that the only other occupants of the street seem to be adults in search of potion ingredients or books. greyback grips him especially harshly this time and harry hisses at him in annoyance before turning to the gringotts doors. 

he smiles at the goblins from underneath his hood, nodding in acknowledgment. unbeknownst to him, they look in bewilderment at the polite wizard. the goblins carefully let their eyes flicker away from their work to find the identity of the young wizard. 

harry looks around, there’s still quite a few wizards and witches scattered about so he quickly turns to approach the only goblin he remembers. “teller griphook, let your gold ever flow...” formal goblin greetings, something he’d read about in the darker books. he remembers the way hagrid disregarded any manners, thinking the goblins lower than himself without so much as a thought. harry finds himself realising you want to be on their good side or they’ll be a powerful enemy that definitely won’t be defeated. goblin magic is completely different from wizards, much like house-elves, even if it originated from the same place initially. 

griphook blinks up at him, shock clear on every goblin in hearing range at the formal greeting. it had been many centuries since a wizard had bothered with their customs. “what can i do for you today?” he grins sharply at the lethifolds protective hold on whoever is underneath,  _ that _ is fascinating. 

“we’d like to have a medical check done, i’m not too sure what for but mr grey told me it’s for the best!” it suddenly occurs this is a child, the small voice singing with innocence but sharp caution. 

“right this way sir...” griphook says. something compels him to indulge the boy in his request. the boys magic hums and whoever this is, is a powerful being indeed. he leads the boy and the other person —the boy said ‘we’ so he assumes there’s someone else— to a private room that the pure bloods (nasty vermin) do business in. “the wards are impenetrable. no body can see or hear you in here, nor can they set up devices to do so.” he soothes the boys worries. 

there’s a ruffle and a man is standing next to the cloaked house, pulling an invisibility cloak off. he hands it to the boy as the lethifold drops the hood revealing a head of messy brown hair. the boy grins and holds the invisibility cloak tight. griphook recognises it as one of the hallows and startles slightly. 

“i’m sorry for disturbing you sir— it’s just you’re the only goblin i’ve met!” the boy grins with a slight blush and griphook suddenly recognises him all too well. harry potter, the saviour of the wizarding world. he takes a look at the man again, fenrir greyback. he stops, why on earth is the boy with a mass murderer? 

“i have reason to believe someone has placed blocks on the kids core.” greyback says to the unasked question. 

“those are heavy accusations mr greyback...” he admits with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. 

“i know, that’s why i brought him here to have a medical test done before confirming my assumptions.” greyback says and griphook nods slowly. these are heavy implications and if greyback is right, there will be terrible consequences if that information ever circulates. 

griphook opens the drawers and retrieves a peace of parchment “please place a drop of blood onto this parchment.” he says as he procures a dagger and hands it to the boy. 

harry shrugs and drags the dagger down the palm of his hand before dropping the blood onto the empty paper. he casts a cleaning charm on the dagger before passing it back to griphook, watching the paper intently and missing the astonishment on the goblins face. 

_ harry james potter _

_ magical guardian: albus dumbledore (self claimed/illegal) _

_ father: james potter  _

_ mother: lily potter née evans _

_ paternal godfather/blood adopted father: sirius black _

_ maternal godmother: alice longbottom  _

harry blinks, this changes things exponentially. that’s not why they’re here anyways, he stores away that information for later. 

_past injuries: tap with wand three times to view_

_current injuries:_

  * _left radius incorrectly healed: re-break advised_
  * _mild burns on arms from exposure to corrosive substances_



_compulsions:_

  * _obey albus dumbledore (25%— renewed every 31st july, 75% broken (albus dumbledore, 1990))_
  * _desire gryffindor (100% (albus dumbledore, 1991))_
  * _loathe slytherins (50%— 50% broken (albus dumbledore, 1991))_
  * _loathe learning (broken 100% (albus dumbledore, 1991))_



_personal traits/ gifts:_

  * _core magic (15%— 20% leech to a.dumbledore, 65% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1986))_
  * _parseltongue (block 100% broken (albus dumbledore, 1991))_
  * _wandless magic affinity (10% broken— 90% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1986))_
  * _wordless magic affinity (20% broken— 80% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1991))_
  * _dark magic affinity (30% broken— 70% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1983))_
  * _eidetic memory (5% broken— 95% leech to h.granger (albus dumbledore, 1991))_
  * _horcrux (tom riddle, 1981)_
  * _healing magic (75% broken— 25% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1985))_
  * _elemental magic (10% broken— 90% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1984))_
  * _obscurus (void by magic block in 1986)_
  * _natural mind shields (100% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1991))_
  * _magic sensitivity (10% broken— 90% blocked (albus dumbledore, 1990))_



harry pales drastically, he may not understand most of this but he can understand it’s bad. greyback and griphook watch the boy read it, suspicious of how shaky his hands are. harry coughs slightly when he’s finished reading it and presses it into greybacks hands. 

greybacks fury grows the more he reads and his magic sparks in the air violently. he looks over to see harry avoiding all eye contact, eyeing the door as if he’s about to run for it. he growls and pulls the boy into his side, letting the smaller burrow into his cloak as he hands over the parchment to griphook. 

griphook inhales sharply, “we will get a healer immediately to take you to the purge chamber and rid of all these nasty blocks. it will be a painful process but we will make sure you’re unconscious. normally this would cost a fortune but this is extremely dangerous and unfair. it’s amazing you’ve survived this long.” greyback holds the shaking boy tightly. he knew there was some sort of block but this is the work of an evil man, a sadist. 

“is there any chance we can change my magical guardian, i don’t really trust dumbledore with power over me anymore...” harry whispers and griphook nods, his heart clenching painfully for the neglected boy. “is there a way to do it without alerting him?” harry questions, he didn’t want to be around dumbledore for a long time. 

“we can make the exchange while we await for the healer to prepare the purging chamber. the goblin healers have been alerted and are working as we speak.” griphook informs them gravely. “i assume mr greyback will be taking over responsibility for your wellbeing mr potter?” griphook grins viciously, he knows the answer. 

greyback goes to protest but feels harry nod against his shoulder and freezes. “i’m a werewolf kid, wizards don’t let us have that type of guardianship over kids.” he grunts solemnly. 

“well you are in luck mr greyback as this is now a goblin affair and not a wizarding one!” griphooks smile is almost psychopathic. he pulls out the paperwork for the exchange and points out the signing points to greyback. greyback hesitates momentarily before signing, he’d do anything to get his kid away from the old coot. 

the door opens just as the last signature is written. “congratulations on your new magical guardian mr potter. make sure i don’t regret this mr greyback.” griphook says, eyes glaring ferociously into greybacks own. 

“come along now dearest, let’s get you all fixed up!” the female goblin says. harry smiles at her and she gently takes his hand, her clothes obviously the healers uniform. she leads him down into the depths of gringotts to a bare room with runes carved into all surfaces of the walls and floors, a lone metal table laying in the centre. nyx reluctantly waits behind with greyback. 

“lay down deary and close your eyes now. you’ll feel brand new when you wake up!” she says and pushes his small body onto the table. he leans back, shaking slightly from nerves as he eyes her warily. “don’t you worry dear, you’ll be tip top shape in no time.”

as his eyes close the last thing he sees is more goblins entering the room wearing the same attire. 

opening his eyes, a pleasant feeling spreads throughout harrys body, his magic thrumming in content against his flesh. he swings his legs off the table, stretching out like a cat would do before turning to find the female healer from earlier, ebba, was her name he’d found out. 

“how are you feeling dear?” the female goblins have much softer features than the males that makes them identifiable —not to say they couldn’t be equally as vicious of course. he remembers the fury that flashed through ebba’s eyes while he was disoriented. 

“the best i’ve ever been, thank you healer ebba!” he charms and she grins at him with fondness. 

“come along now little one, i’m afraid our floors will start to crumble with how much your father is pacing upstairs!” she says and harry flushes. 

“he’s not my father!” harry exclaims, which she knows already as she’d seen the medical records. a dark blush lights up the boys face and she dare say the students at hogwarts will be falling at his feet. “he’s amazing though, i’m really glad i met him...” the freckles that had appeared from exposure to the sun over the past few weeks makes the redness of his cheeks even more obvious. 

“one day you’ll realise that mr greyback has made himself your family dearest. we can all see it in the way he cares about you...” she loves but hates the way the boy looks away shamefully. loves it because the boy obviously knows she’s right from the flash in his eyes; hates it because the boy won’t admit it to himself, so neglected and feels uncared for as a result. she has to say she was absolutely disgusted when she eventually got the medical report while harry was asleep, the past injuries going on for scrolls of parchment, falling like a never-ending waterfall at her feet. 

“how long was i unconscious?” harry asks as he gently drags his fingertips along the walls of the bank, the magic of the bank rushing to meet his fingers at the surface of the wall. 

“just over four hours deary.” they reach the door that harry remembers leaving through. surprising considering his dazed state. “before we go in i must admit i purposely toned down your magic sensibility so you weren’t overwhelmed as you awoke. mr greyback asked me to be there when i cancellled the charm so you don’t fall and hurt yourself. very thoughtful of him!” she confides before opening the door. 

harry enters and nyx is immediately wrapping around him, purring in contempt and her warmth floods his chest. greyback puts an arm around his shoulder as he sits down next to the man, griphook looking agitated at the man. harry looks down to find the source of the mans agitation, the carpet has physically become worn at greybacks pacing. 

“now mr potter when i take off the charm i want you to dial down the intensity yourself. it’s a lot like how you pushed your magic out to sense it before except this time you’re reeling it back in!” ebba chirps at him as she stands in front of him. she produces a long, fairytale looking wand —one that reminded him of the fairy godmothers own in cinderella— and chants in what harry understands to be gobbledegook, goblins language. a beam of blue magic reaches his eyes and the spell is cancelled. 

harry gasps as bright colours flash in front of him making him feel quite nauseous. he looks around, squinting against the beams of piercing magic. _reel it in harry, reel it in_ ,  he tells himself as it slowly starts becoming much too overwhelming. 

he pulls his magic inside of him and blinks in surprise, nausea leaving him now that the lights aren’t so bright. the lights are all gone so harry carefully pushes a small amount of magic out to test his sensibility again. 

it doesn’t react as normal. yes, his magic still finds magic but this time it’s a much stronger connection and there’s faint lights around the people in the room. he turns to greyback, “what’s the light around people? i don’t think i’ve heard of it...” he asks with furrowed brows. he really should get some books on his newer capabilities now. 

“that’s a magical aura i think, i can’t see them myself so i’m not too sure.” he asks more than states and turns to ebba who nods in confirmation. “what colour am i?” greyback asks his curiosity badly hidden. 

harry looks closer, “you’re like, a dark purple. it’s really pretty though, reminds me of amethysts!” he says and greyback chuckles at the boys wonder. 

greybacks aura feels animalistic but not dangerously so, the second part, the human part is reaching out to him but not overbearingly so. the goblins auras both give off the same sharp feeling despite being different colours. perhaps he can determine the species of a magical through auras. 

“we better go now kid, we’ve taken enough of the goblins time!” greyback ruffles harrys hair and the latter wrinkles his nose in annoyance. 

“thank you for your help teller griphook, healer ebba. may your enemies ever tremble!” he says as he waves at the pair, nyx wrapping around him protectively. nyx’s magical aura is a lot more prominent than the others but what fascinates him about her is that he finds his own magic intertwined slightly. 

“may your vaults never empty mr potter, the goblins shall be here if you ever need assistance young one!” ebba says as griphook merely waves them out, greybacks hand on his lower back, guiding him out of the door. 

sitting on the pier, ice cream cones in their hands, greyback speaks for the first time since they left gringotts. harry is understandably upset and his emotions are no doubt conflicting. it’s odd to see the boy who’s normally so cheery shut down on instinct, a terribly natural mask falling into place. sure, the kid doesn’t truly smile a lot, the quirks of his lips showing his amusement; however, the kid has done this enough times to count on one hand. his eyes glass over and he loses himself in thought, it happened once in their occlumency lesson and harrys magic automatically protected him as the boy could not do it himself. 

“how... how are you kid?” harrys eyes still glitter in surprise and the mans heart twists painfully. no matter how many wounds he stitches up or how many bruises the man heals, the boy never stops showing surprise at the prospect of someone caring for him. it’s heartbreaking to someone even as cold as greyback to watch the boy grimace at the question, his own thoughts no doubt mirroring his own. 

“i’m alright.” harry says as he gingerly licks the caramel ice cream, the coldness being the only shock against the numbness that overcame him when he saw that list. no matter how happy he seemed afterwards, it’s all catching up with him now and he hates it. “it’s just hard to take it all in... someone i trusted did that to me. maybe he had a good reason, he is dumbledore after all...” harry tries so hard to make himself believe there’s a reason. 

“kid i didn’t expect to have to say this because it was pretty obvious but what dumbledore did was wrong,” he starts. “ _ is wrong _ .” he corrects. he’s endangered your life every school year and it sees he’s never not been a danger to you!” he doesn’t have to use legilimency to know the boy is thinking up every way to blame himself. “do you know what an obscurial is?” because even now, greyback doesn’t quite believe what he saw on that parchment. 

harry nods. “it’s a dark parasitic magic force made from a wizard or witch suppressing their magic. it was a way to harness magic when we were being hunted. the obscurus is an almost invisible force, the obscurials eyes becoming white and their body’s vibrate when it’s released. some obscurials physical beings turn into the obscurus and destroy everything in their path. it’s triggered by stressful emotions, the hosts usually die before the age of ten. they can’t be killed in obscurus form, the obscurials.” greyback mentally winces at the robotic answer, like the boys resiting a textbook passage. “maybe that’s why he bound my magic... i’m a danger to everyone...” harrys voice is hoarse with emotion. 

“kid, listen to me.” greyback demands, turning to face harry, staring into the boys emerald eyes. “there is never, and i mean never, a good reason to bind someone’s magic. you aren’t a danger to anyone by any means and this certainly doesn’t make you any less human!” harry swallows uncomfortably, hating the sympathy he’s receiving. 

“so sirius black, a mass murderer, is my godfather?” he asks quietly, ignoring the look that passes through greybacks eyes at the dismissal. 

“last i heard he’d sold out your parents to voldemort because he was their secret keeper...” greyback says, his eyebrows furrowing as he delves into memories to recall what happened to the man. 

“was he a death eater?” harry asks, he’s not sure he cares for the answer —he is sat next to a death eater after all. this one hadn’t tried to kill him either, so if black is his godfather and a death eater he doubts he’s in any immediate danger for now. if black is after him maybe he’ll try and persuade harry over to voldemort’s side or something at the very least. 

“no. i think it’s all bullshit because black despised anything to do with dark magic, even ran away from his family to live with potter if i remember what severus said correctly.” harrys absorbed in the information, he knows it unhealthy but he doesn’t know anything about his parents. he can’t hold their deaths over voldemort because it was war, they signed themselves up to fight but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t wished he still had them. it’ll take a while but he’ll eventually learn to let go. “what’ll you do about dumbledore?”

“he can’t know i’ve found out, i’d never hear the end of it and he’d probably try even more compulsions. i will never trust that old man again but i’ll make him believe i do. i could get more to use against him that way!” harry smiles wickedly and greyback snorts at him. 

“you’re going to manipulate him?” greyback asks with a raised brow, smirking at the younger. 

harry pouts, making his eyes bigger and a flush form on his face. “why would i do that? dumbledore saved me from the dursley’s, he’s like my grandfather!” his voice is filled with complete innocence and greyback stiffens in front of him. harry slowly continues his ice cream, making himself look wary of the werewolf. 

greyback yanks his head so that he can see the boys eyes, looking for any compulsions. harry cackled loudly, the act falling apart and greyback sits, stunned that he’d fallen for it. “...you tricked me!” he bites as the younger laughs harder at the pouty look on the mans face. 

“whatever do you mean mr grey? i’d never trick you!” he says, pulling the innocent act back up again and greyback groans loudly. 

“you’re going to kill me one day, i swear kid!” he grumbles as he stands up, storming away with a pout. harry jumps up, running after the man, his laughter echoing through the harbour. 

greyback watches as eyes turn their way and consciously checks his glamours are still up, checking he has his wand —until he realises it’s not him they’re looking at. they’re all muggles he knows this, harry would’ve realised if there were any wizards with his sensibility before and now it’s increased, no wizards would be able to hide here. 

it takes him a moment longer to figure out why they’re all staring, captivated at the boy with emerald eyes. his laughter is alluring, his magic unconsciously and undetectably pulling people in. the boy looks a real sight and greyback wonders if this is what all those blocks were hiding underneath. how different would harrys childhood have been if he caught everyone’s attention like he is now?

“hello, i’m sorry for bothering you but i wanted to give this to you!” a little girl about nine years old, blonde pigtails and golden honey eyes stops in front of them. she holds out a beautiful white rose, clear of thorns and leaves in front of harry.

harry softly takes the flower from her, crouching down to meet her eyes with a warm smile. “what’s this for?” he teases kindly and the small girl blushes. 

“mama gave it to me yesterday telling me to give it to the angel who would be here today!” she mumbles and harrys eyes go wide, a blush covering his face as well. 

“are you sure she didn’t mean yourself?” harry smoothly asks and the girl giggles. “what’s your name?” the girl startled at the question as if she was just happy to meet him. 

“aurora...” she admits. 

“well rory would you believe me if i told you i knew i’d find an angel here today as well?” greyback looks at the boy with question in his eyes, he doesn’t think the boys a seer. she shakes her head and harry smiles, putting the white rose behind his ear before putting his hand inside of nyx. 

inside he pushes his magic to create his own flower and pulls out a milky white lily. he hands it to her and she gapes at him with wide eyes. greyback holds back a chuckle as he feels the air shift slightly as harrys magic smothers the flower. 

“thank you mr angel!” she says as he places the flower behind her ear. she jumps and throws her arms around his neck. harry, being a stick, barely keeps himself balanced in the crouch, gently hugging her back. 

“goodbye little angel!” he says as she waves, running off to a group of children down the street. he can hear her recounting the story loudly and the kids stare at him in awe as they pass. 

when they’re finally out of the children’s earshot and eyeline greyback turns to harry with unconcealed amusement. “what was that about little angel?” he chides and harry rolls his eyes. 

“she’s just a kid!” harry says with a small smile playing on his lips, remembering the way her eyes sparkled in adoration as she looked at him. 

“don’t let it get to your head kid, you’re far from innocent. the angel bit... fair enough.” greyback says and harry beams at the discloser. he grabs greybacks arm as they reach a spot hidden to any eyes and apparate away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greyback: so fuck dumbledore   
> Harry: so sirius black  
> Greyback: dumbledore is more of a problem  
> Harry: sooooo sirius black.  
> Greyback: no—  
> Aurora: angel.  
> Harry: no u  
> Greyback: fml


	7. the bloated boar

a week after the trip to gringotts and the full moon is upon them. harry can’t go to greyback tonight, he can’t even stand up in all honesty. nyx is the one who moves him from the floor to the bed —lethifolds are scarily strong in some aspects.

“how can i help him if i’m not there?” harry asks himself aloud, the pocket library sitting next to his desk as he contemplates getting out a book. his window is open so he can hear when the howls start tonight, reminding him of how unhelpful he is right now. a glimmer of light reflects off the shattered mirror on the dusty, old, broken down wardrobe opposite the end of them bed. 

a lightbulb goes off in his head, honestly how didn’t he think of this earlier. “ _ expecto patronum! _ ” he says aloud. unable to move his wand properly, he hopes for the spell to work. 

sure enough, his dragon appears from the end of his wand. “apollo!” his dragons name is suiting, the god of light. naming his patronus gave it a more personal touch, he thought. “please can you go take care of greyback for me?” he asks, wincing at the sound of the first painful howl. apollo nods and turns, flying through the wall without problem. 

harry waits before the pained howls finally stop and turn into more joyful ones. he smiles and lets out a relived sigh, nyx cuddling into his chin. it’s quite ironic that nyx and apollo get along so well; being natural enemies as a cat is to a rat, nyx is the goddess of darkness’ name and apollo the god of light. besides they’re literally known to get rid of one another. 

now, why can’t harry walk you ask? apparently, one —four by the looks of the horrible cow— marge dursley, is arriving in the next few days. so why did that result in a punishment for him? don’t worry, it’s a valid question —one harry doesn’t know the answer to himself. he thinks maybe it’s because they’re trying to steer his reigns again so that he behaves when she’s here and stops “whoring” himself out. 

they knew something had changed that day at gringotts as did he. they saw the flower in his hair and suddenly he’s consider a pansy. that’s not the problem to him. ever since last week, their eyes move his way more often than usual. maybe it’s that while greys clothes are loose as dudleys, they make him look more adorable that scraggly; perhaps it’s his presence, more distracting than usual, radiating innocence in the house of hell. in all honesty, vernon probably beat him to try and mess up his appearance so he’s not as alluring (greyback’s words, not his.) to look at, not that harry believes he’s alluring in the first place. 

he wonders how ripper will react to him now. all the animals seem to love him when they didnt before. it’s strange and he reckons it has something to do with the chamber incident. seeing as basilisks scare all the animals and phoenixes most likely comfort them. the basilisk venom would scare them into submitting; the phoenix tears would attract them. it would easily explain why nyx is so unafraid around him but isn’t trying to actively shove him into her stomach. he’s felt her teeth graze his back a few times but he’s never scared of her, she normally only does that when someone is threatening him —read: the creeps at the market and the dursley’s. he never does let her enact revenge for anything that happens to him though, she’s agitated but seems to understand. 

harry lays in pain throughout the night, groaning quietly as his face scrunches up, his clothes sticking to the open wounds on his body. nyx’s temperature drops to soothe his burning body with the coldness of herself. 

when the early hours of dawn brings light steaming in the window, the last thing harry sees before passing out is apollo coming back through the wall, settling at the end of his rickety bed. 

later that day, harry forces himself to get up. he needs to go and see greyback, find out if his patronus protected the man. he stumbles to his feet, wincing at the long, black, bruises striping his body like he’s a human zebra. it’s horrible, they hurt but greyback is more important than some pain. harry can deal with pain. he can deal with it. 

he pulls on loose clothing, agitating the marks right now would not be a good idea. he also knows, the next few days are going to play out the same and this might be his last chance to see greyback, so he hurries down the street in the early morning hours before vernon can catch him or one of the neighbours can start gossiping. he can’t be seen by the neighbours, he doesn’t think they even know his name. he’s just the ‘delinquent nephew’ of the dursley’s. 

“mr grey?” he asks softly to the clearing, the beloved clearing that has become his safe place; safe from muggles and wizards alike. he wonders sometimes if aunt petunia wanted to be a witch, because she fits the stereotype to be one, minus the magic. horrible, vile, not pleasant to look at; aunt petunia, a stereotypical damned witch. she would’ve definitely been hunted in the witch trials, her shrill voice wasn’t even the beginning of it. 

“kid?” the word is grunted and harry hurries forward to the man who’s laying in a heap right in the middle of the clearing. there’s a deep wound running down the mans side, the were being in nothing but boxers harry can’t find himself being embarrassed because greyback has also seen him in boxers, cleaning him up after the dursley’s time and time again. 

the cut is bleeding heavily and harry winces, summoning his own first aid kit he used to use to patch himself up. “this is going to hurt but it’s a better option because spells might not fully hold the cut together...” he winces as he pulls out the familiar needle and thread. he sterilises them both before holding his empty hand over the wound, conjuring a light stream of water to swim over the wound and free it of dirt. the dirty water rolls off the mans body, forming a small puddle by his body. 

harry stops the water and immediately starts to stitch it up. greyback grits his teeth and grips harrys leg tightly. harry winces at the tight grip but continues to stitch up the wound. it’s not that long but it is deep, hence the probability for spells falling apart. when he’s finished he vanishes the thread and needle, forming another gentle water stream to get rid of excess blood. he summons a bandage and wraps the wound up, for extra structure. he vanishes his first aid kit back to his trunk and sits back, sighing in exhaustion. his own body aching as he hasn’t taken a moment to fix himself up. 

“you know how to do stitches?” greyback asks after a few moments of silence, finally letting go of harrys leg. harry looks down, the indentation from greybacks grip means there’s no doubt a bruise underneath his joggers. 

“you haven’t always been here to fix me up...” harry whispers and rolls his trouser leg up, a purple hand mark forming in the same place greys hand was. 

“sorry about that kid.” greyback says with a grimace. harry shrugs, grunting as a sharp pain sources from his shoulder. “let’s fix you up now!” greyback says when he takes in the bruises on harrys face, the glasses barely hiding his face like harry no doubt wanted. 

“this might be my last chance to see you this summer, marge —vernons sister— is visiting...” harry says, watching as greyback covers his bruises in healing balm. 

“well then you better write letters to me, i can’t have you slacking at hogwarts. i need copies of your essays as well!” greyback command and harry giggles. 

“yes  _dad_ !” he teases and greyback glares as him but he’s obviously amused. 

hours later harry hugs greyback before he leaves, he’s not sure he won’t see the man again this year but hugs him just incase. greyback snorts and hugs him back, aware that harry rarely initiates contact or accepts any. he wouldn’t either if he was betrayed by the people he trusted. 

and if they hug for longer than usual, cling tighter than usual, that’s nobody’s business but their own. 

marge dursley does arrive within the next few days, on a sunday in fact. harry doesn’t know if he can last a week and three days until the train takes him back to hogwarts, but he can try. 

the plump —putting it kindly— short, blonde woman with a pig like face storms into the house. harry, who’s upstairs, wonders if there’s a natural disaster going on in britain for a moment, as if the tectonic plates shifted so badly it affected the whole of the united kingdom with an earthquake. “dudders! there’s my favourite little nephew!” ah, no. it’s marge dursley. her grating voice bouncing off the walls in the middle of the day. 

“boy! come get marges bags!” vernon shouts up the stairs. harry rolls his eyes, slipping his book back into the pocket library and casting a muggle repelling spell on his room before making his way downstairs. 

as expected —or unexpectedly expected— ripper bounds up to him like a gigantic puppy and not some vicious creature that annually tries to rip his throat out. they say werewolves are vicious, tsk, they should meet ripper. marge grunts in surprise and displeasure as ripper jumps at harrys legs. 

harry, feeling spiteful, grins and crouches down to pet the dog. ripper isn’t very cute to look at, but he’s acting like a sweetie so everything is fine. “ripper! here boy!” marge snaps and ripper reluctantly leaves harrys side, walking slowly to his owner. harry snorts under his breathe, leaning down to pick up marges bags. 

with the physical training as well as the magical, harry has gained quite a bit of muscle but that doesn’t mean he’s not malnourished anymore. greyback really does try to fatten him up, shoving food at him in every opening. he struggles slightly, marges bags weigh as much as baby elephants. 

when he reaches the top of the stairs he opts to just levitate them to the guest room because he’s out of their sight. as long as they don’t see him do magic he’s fine. he waves his hand, pulling it up and the bags follow, hovering in the air. he walks down the corridor, the bags trailing after him and shoves them into the spare room. 

the guest room makes harry bitter. he lived in a cupboard when there was two extra rooms in the house but no, they couldn’t have his ‘freakishness’ messing up the room. 

not wanting to dwell on those thoughts, harry returns to his room, casting a wandless lock on the door before getting out a book from the pocket library to read. 

he’s been thinking about what he saw on the medical exam. it’s mentioned voldemort’s real name and something about a horcrux. he’ll ask greyback when he sees him if he can’t figure it out by himself —even if he didn’t already do so, greyback would encourage him to find out himself as well. 

that’s what he’s doing now, anything to do with voldemort is no doubt extremely dark magic. perhaps it has something to do with the pain in his scar whenever he touches the slimy git. harry may not hold his parents death against the man but trying to murder an eleven year old? yeah, he’s much more blameable for that. harrys sympathises slightly with tom riddle, the half blood who grew up in the orphanage —you won’t catch him saying it dead or alive though. he wonders why voldemort even came after his family to begin with; yes it was a war but they were targeted directly. maybe he can ask black if he ever gets the opportunity because things just don’t add up with that mans story, perhaps he can get an addition of the prophet from the day. 

“here we are...” he says. he’s been through countless books and with his newfound ability to remember easier, he’s learnt while he’s researching for once. “horcruxes...” it’s in a book on soul magic, not comforting in any way. soul magic is finicky stuff from what he’s learnt so far, earlier there was a ritual on literally binding your soul to a demon —it gives a whole new look to the phrase ‘deal with the devil’— and of course, he already knows about dementors stealing souls. 

“a horcrux is an object in which a dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. horcruxes can only be created after committing murder, the supreme act of evil.” oh.  _ oh _ . it makes sense in a way, more so than the whole mother’s sacrifice claim dumbledore makes. it makes sense why voldemort can’t touch him, you can’t hurt something that holds your own soul. apparently the first horcrux creator was the first to breed a basilisk as well, if that isn’t ironic, harry doesn’t know what is. 

well this is problematic now isn’t it. dumbledore most definitely knows he’s a horcrux and he’ll have to die for voldemort to do the same, he’s like a reserve for the dark lord. the dark lord definitely isn’t dead either as harry clearly remembers the wraith like figure flying through him after quirrel died. does that mean the diary is a horcrux as well? diary tom said he’s a memory stored inside a book, that sounds like a horcrux. dumbledore knows and is going to make him fight voldemort anyways, the man is manipulative but he’s good at it; he’s not training harry because he counts on harry dying, no matter how much harry doesn’t want to admit it to himself. 

he can think more about this later and when he can next talk to grey. goddamnit he’s thirteen and should not have to be thinking about his death right now. 

later, harry finds himself staring out at the half moon as he prepares dinner. he hasn’t been able to visit greyback since a few days ago, the day after the full moon. he’s done his best to patch himself up on his own. sure, it’s not that difficult because he’s used to it, he also has magic and potions now but it’s not the same. it’s weird to admit he misses greyback, he’s never missed someone before, especially not with seeing him a few days ago. 

he hears marge exclaiming loudly, telling tales of her life that sound more boring than history of magic lessons. maybe he should ask professor binns if he even wants to teach there? he could exorcise the teacher because dumbledore is probably holding him as a teacher (captive) against his will, why else would he be a teacher there? he adds that to his to-do list for later completion —unless binns floats through the floor right about now there’s no way he can ask the ghost. 

“the wretched boy causing you anymore trouble?” marge squawks as harry carefully lays the food out in front of them. he’s uncomfortable with the way their eyes follow him like he’s a species they’ve never seen before. her eyes narrow as ripper grapples at harrys feet, harry snorts —this is probably how voldemort’s followers treat the snake. “something funny boy?” she snarls and harry grimaces inwardly at the disgusting yellow of her teeth. 

“nothing sorry ma’am!” he smiles innocently and marge raises an eyebrow before nodding suspiciously. 

“anyways, where is it you sent the boy vernon?” she sparks up conversation again with her brother, hopelessly wanting to piss harry off by the looks of things. harry rolls his eyes, amused with the way ripper picks up plates and brings them to harry for him to wash. petunia watches with furrowed brows, confused at the vile dogs behaviour. she turns her nose up, thinking herself better no doubt. 

“st.brutus’ for the troubled kind!” harry raises an eyebrow at vernons words, the man looks away from him. 

“tell me boy, they use the cane at that school?” she obviously thinks she knows the answer and harry knows what he’s supposed to answer before vernon can even raise his wormy eyebrow and glare with his fishlike crossed eyes. 

“oh yes!” harry says sombrely, a look of feint sadness decorating his face. “they beat me all the time!” he’ll indulge vernon for now, no threats about behaving are going to keep him in line if she starts acting up. 

“excellent! i won’t have this nonsense about people not getting beaten who deserve it!” she puffs out her chest and harry turns away with a smirk, pressing his back to the counter as he listens to the conversation. “you mustn’t blame yourself for how this one turned out vernon. it’s all to do with blood; bad blood will out!” harry rolls his eyes. yes bad blood will out indeed, marge and vernon are the perfect examples of that right now. 

“what was it the boys father did pet?” she asks and harry almost laughs as he hears petunia inhale sharply, feeling her eyes momentarily watching his back. he straightens up, pretending to tense and hears her cough slightly, uncomfortably. 

“he was uh- unemployed, didn’t work.” it’s funny even petunia has to define unemployed for the pig. she probably wouldn’t know what it meant if she hadn’t gotten it explained. 

“and a drunk too no doubt!” harry exhales harshly. he may not know his parents but he knows enough to defend their honour from cows like marge dursley. 

“that’s a lie.” his voice is disarming but he can tell by the way petunia stiffens they can hear the threat behind it. his blood boils at the way they tread on people’s names that are renowned heroes back in his world. “my father wasn’t a drunk.” and to get the warning across, marges glass explodes in her hand. 

“oh dear! no worries, i have a strong grip you see!” she says to vernon who’s glaring at harry as if that’ll make the boy back down and submit. harry raises an eyebrow, entirely unbothered by the look. 

“perhaps it’s time you went to bed...” he tries to sound threatening but harry can’t bring himself to entertain the man any longer. he’s sick of people controlling him right now, summer is supposed to be a time when he’s free from being ordered around even though it never has been, his never-ending chores list is an example of that. 

“quiet vernon!” marge looks to harry and clicks her fingers before pointing to the table. he tilts his head in fake misunderstanding. “you —clean this up!” she commands him and harry smiles plastically, grabbing the tea towel before walking over to the table, gathering the glass in his hand. 

“actually it has nothing to do with the father, it’s all to do with the mother,” marge carries on, somehow unaware of how tense the atmosphere is. he catches petunia flinch slightly at the mention of lily potter and almost growls at her, how dare she act hurt when she’s never mentioned the woman before. “you see it all the time in dogs —if there’s something wrong with the bitch then there’s something wrong with the pup!” harrys heard quite enough. 

“shut up. _shut up!_ ” if there’s anything harry hates more than voldemort, it’s being compared to his parents. how can he act like people he’s never met, act like people who haven’t raised him. he’s surprised he turned out so well considering the dursleys raised him —well, raised is an overstatement if he’s honest. 

marge turns, scowling at him as she points her finger in his face. “right let me tell you—“ the air starts to swirl and harry desperately tries to regain control of his abilities. the plates all rattle and the lights flicker as he pushes himself to calm down. 

slowly marges finger inflates, she stops talking, staring at the finger in horror. her chin slowly doubles even more and her clothes rip as the rest of her expands. ripper whimpers, moving to hide under the table as her tights slit open. vernon grimaces and petunia sits there, stunned. 

“vernon, vernon do something!” she demands and vernon stands but ripper is faster, latching his teeth in the whale of a mans legs. 

marges bead necklace pops off, catching the attention of dudley who was staring at the tv very unaware of the current happenings at the table. he gape’s as she slowly rises from the floor and harry raises an eyebrow in disgust at the blue garter belts. 

her cardigan buttons pop off, knocking dudley out as they hit him in the face. petunia scrambles to get up, moving away to the corner of the room, watching the scene play out. 

marge slowly floats outside, screaming as vernon hobbles after her, running as fast as he can —spoiler: that isn’t very fast. he grabs her hands and he slowly lifts off the floor with her. “don’t you dare!” she yells as he stares at their hands. 

“sorry!” he says, quite unapologetically, might harry add. she floats away screeching loudly and vernon yells after her. 

“nyx go get my bags please.” he tells the lethifold who’s been hiding in the kitchens shadow the entire time. nyx flies out underneath the crack of the front door and to greybacks cave. 

he walks calmly towards the front door before vernon grabs his shoulder, just shy of the door handle. “you bring her back and put her right now!” he shouts and harry turns to him, pulling his wand out of the holster. 

“no!” he says gleefully. 

“you can’t do magic outside of school, you can’t go back now, you’ve nowhere to go!” he whimpers slightly at the wand in his face. 

“oh yeah, try me. anywhere is better than here anyways.” he grits his teeth and slams the door open behind him wandlessly before turning on his heel and leaving the house, taking joy in slamming the door on the way out. 

harry makes his way down the streets, preening in the serene silence. he blocks out the distant sounds of marge dursley screaming as she floats away, greyback no doubt already clued in on what happened. 

he can’t go to greybacks now though. the obliviators will be here soon so harry has to go to the leaky cauldron before they send out someone to find him. he sits on the pavement in front of the park, humming quietly as he waits for nyx to come back with his stuff. 

he puts his glasses in his hair and sighs tiredly, why can’t things be normal for a year at least once. third year is already off to a terrible start. he rubs his eyes with the palm of his hands, ignoring the feeling of magic that floods from nearby. 

he hears growling and huffs to himself, not looking left to the source of the sound. “you didn’t scare me the first time, you aren’t scaring me now grim.” he speaks to the dog. 

said dog walks forward with a whine, nudging harrys side. harry gives in with a snort, petting the dog. the dogs grey eyes regard him with confusion, head tilted in question. “blew up my aunt.” he says lightly with a shrug, an innocent smile playing on his lips. the dog yelps and buts his arm with his head, glaring. “she’s still alive, can you see her?” he says, pouting to the ballon like figure of his aunt in the distance. the dog barks a laugh and harry joins in. 

nyx comes gliding over then, trunk engulfed inside her cloak-like figure. the grim growls, putting himself between harry and the lethifold. harry finds that brave, this dog is fond of him for some reason. “thanks nyx sweetie...” he says as she drops his trunk on his lap, settling across his shoulders. he casts a featherlight charm and a shrinking charm on his trunk before pocketing it and standing up. 

the dog whines in concern and harry smiles, petting the dog once more. “run along now, i’m calling the night bus and i doubt you want to get caught.” he says and the dog hesitantly steps away. “alright, time to put this show on the road!” he says to himself and the dog, who heard him, barks in fright at being turned in. harry rolls his eyes and raises his wand, summoning the night bus like greyback explained so many time, telling tales of him and his friends wild nights. 

the bus comes zooming down the street and the dog nips his hand one more time before bolting away. the bus comes to a stop in front of where he’s standing and harry snorts as the messy looking man picks up a piece of paper —new to the job, it seems. 

“welcome to the night bus. emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. my name is stan shunpike and i’ll be your conductor for this evening!” he looks up to stare at harry who giggles slightly. stan offers him a hand and harry takes it gratefully, letting himself be pulled into the bus and ignoring the awe in the mans eyes as harrys intoxicating magic appears. 

harry cautiously steps inside, moving past the sleeping wizards and witches in beds. stan ushers him forward from behind him and harry stares at the chandelier swinging slightly. 

harry gently sits down on the bed, greyback tells him of the speed at which this bus goes and how nauseous it makes one so he grabs onto the metal bar of the frame tightly, nyx will keep him in place either way. 

“take it away ern!” stan says and the shrunken head cackles. the old man in the drivers seat takes a bite of his sandwich and harry wonders if he can see with how thick his glasses lens are. the old man yanks the lever and harry gasps at the sudden jolt. the bus zooms off and harry laughs under his breath at the carefree nature of it all. 

stan bites his nail slightly before pointing at harry with furrowed brows. “what did you say your name was again?” he asks suspiciously. 

“i didn’t.” harry replies softly. he catches sight of the man on the front of the newspaper, so sirius black is wanted in the wizarding world as well. “how’d you reckon he escaped?” he asks stan who seems to brighten after the original conversation cut off. 

“that’s the question isn’t it!” he says, pressing a hand to harrys chest. “first one who’s done it!” he declares. “where you heading anyways?” he asks and harrys aware he’s somehow made himself come off as uncomfortable with the line of conversation, so much so the conductor is changing it. 

“the leaky cauldron, in london.” harry smiles and the man chuckles. 

“hear that ern? the leaky cauldron in london!” he snickers. 

“the leaky cauldron in london!” seriously it’s been said three times now, he gets the point. “better eat the pea soup before it eats you!” the shrunken head squeals and harry raises an eyebrow, lip quirking slightly in amusement. 

“can’t the muggles see us?” he asks as he gazes at the cars they pass outside, fleeing out of sight like christmas lights. 

“the muggles don’t see nothing!” do they find everything funny?

“ernie little old lady at twelve o’clock!” the shrunken head shouts and harry lifts his head to watch through the front windows of the bus. 

the bus comes to a jolting stop and nyx keeps harry in place, lest he come face to face with the window himself. stan raises an eyebrow at him and harry shrugs feinting innocence. the shrunken head counts down before they zoom past the old lady again. 

“sirius black is a murderer!” the man seems to gain his confidence back at the fake wholesome nature of harry —most of it is fake anyways. “in line with you-know-who. i reckon you know who that is...” oh, he’s being reprimanded for ‘not knowing’ who sirius black is. 

“yeah,” harry casts his eyes down with fake sadness. “i know who...” stan keeps his mouth shut then, looking quite guilty. 

“double deckers gaining at two o’clock!” the head barks out and the old man pulls a lever. harry feels time slow down and the bus slowly squeezes together, harry winces slightly at the pressure it puts in his head. “why the long face?” the head cackles before they get past both the buses and continue on their way. 

eventually they arrive at the leaky cauldron, stopping short. they accidentally set off a car alarm and harry rises to his feet shakily. “can i get your name before you go mister?” stan asks and harry almost winces. 

“mr potter, at last!” he sees the bartender of the leaky cauldron at the end of the bus —tom, if he remembers correctly. 

harry turns to stan, “harry potter.” he says and holds his hand out. the man stares, wide eyed and not concealing his shock at all. he gently shakes the mans hand and unshrinks his trunk, handing it to tom to avoid suspicion of even more underage magic. “it was nice to meet you mister shunpike!” he waves farewell and follows tom into the backdoor of the leaky cauldron, watching the night bus still for a few moments longer before shaking off its own shock and driving off. 

he stands in the doorway for a moment, reeling his magic in for the first time all summer. he tucks his hair behind his ear and startles when he finds the white rose from aurora behind his ear, he’d spelled it to be everlasting. nyx must’ve placed it there because greyback certainly didn’t. the flower actually caused a few horrible words to be thrown his way when he got back to privet drive that day, most just calling him a pansy and he got beaten for acting like a ‘flower boy’ in their house. flower boy is actually quite a pleasing title in harrys opinion so he’d take the insult in stride. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vernon: behave  
> Harry: Aight 
> 
> *Blows up marge*
> 
> Vernon: ...  
> Harry: i had my fingers crossed.


	8. monster of magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely chapter title comes from a fabulous spelling mistake I made in my notes by a happy accident and I thought it still fitted after all. It’s dumb but I laugh every time I see the title lmao

“the minister is waiting for you, right this way, right this way!” they enter the familiar interior of the leaky cauldron pub. harry smiles to himself when he spots a man stirring his tea wandlessly, talented man probably doesn’t acknowledge it either. “room eleven.” tom leads him up the stairs and pushes open a door.

harry hears a soft hoot and smiles when he sees hedwig. discreetly grabbing the letter from her leg, he puts it in his pocket before stroking her. “hedwig...” he coos. 

“smart bird you’ve got there mr potter, arrived five minutes before yourself!” tom says and harry rolls his eyes, walking towards the empty seat tom gestures to and sitting down gently. 

“as minister it is my duty to inform you, mr potter, that your uncles sister was found on the other side of sheffield this afternoon.” it’s not that much of a surprise, the woman’s so fat she couldn’t of gotten any further. “the accidental magic reversal unit has been dispatched, she has been properly punctured and her memory modified. she will have no recollection of the incident so —that’s that and no harm done!” boo, harry had hoped they got at least a bit of trauma stuck with marge. harry finds it’s quite inappropriate for a minister to say things like that, even if harry wishes there was harm done he shouldn’t be told wether there was or wasn’t —he is, after all, just thirteen. 

“but minister, i don’t quite understand...” feinting innocence, harry can’t believe he has to do this. 

“understand?” he raises an eyebrow at harry, questionably. 

“i broke the law minister,” harry looks down as if ashamed of himself, letting a bit of his magic out to help him along. he watches the ministers aura of bright blue spark in content. he rolls his eyes where the minister can’t see, of course the minister doesn’t care as long as harry looks as though he feels guilty. he sniffles slightly, “i used underaged magic!” he hugs himself to make himself look smaller. 

“come now harry, the ministry doesn’t send people to azkaban for blowing up their aunts!” they don’t, do they? harry stores that away for further reference even if he won’t use it now. aunt petunia would be in for a surprise nonetheless. tom cackled loudly, although it sounds more like he’s having trouble breathing. “on the other hand, running away like during the state of things is very irresponsible mr potter,” harry wants to curse the man. “we have a killer on the loose!” he sees the question that harry wasn’t going to ask nor cared to think about. 

“sirius black, you mean sir? what’s he got to do with me?” he’ll be surprised if the man tells him the truth or anywhere near it. 

“nothing, nothing at all!” the minster chuckles nervously and harry wants to snort at his wide eyes. “you’re safe here and that’s what matters. you’ll be back at hogwarts in a week and now tom will take you to your room.” harrys standing before tom can grab him, hedwig already landing on his shoulder without him calling her. 

the minister definitely doesn’t have any idea how to properly run the magical world. quite frankly everything he’s said so far have been nothing but unsettling in regards to the ‘mass murderer’. his face gives away everything and from what he’s heard over the years, he’s easily manipulated or bribed as well. he’s joking about a serious matter, two actually and it’s highly irresponsible for someone of his class. 

“mister potter, one last question before you go,” the minister starts. harry turns, angling himself to make his stance come across as childish, fitting for his age. he nods his head for the man to continue. “where did you get that gorgeous flower?” he asks, harry only remembers his still has the rose at that moment. ah but white is a symbol of purity, innocence, this seemed to have helped his case. 

“a little girl, aurora, one of my neighbours told me her mother gave her it to give to the angels. apparently i fit the description...” harry smiles abashed, a flush covering his slightly freckles face. he bites his lip to stop himself smiling at the memory, although it looks nervous to the minister. 

“fit that description, indeed you do mr potter. very well then, goodnight child!” the minister sounds fond, it’s weird in a way. 

harry gestures for tom to show the way as he stands in the doorway and follows after him, eyeing the photos arguing on the walls. they seem entranced as usual as he walks past and he definitely needs to talk to them, see if they can find out information for him —it’s not like they’ll know that’s what they’re doing. 

he enters a spacious —pleasantly so— room. there’s a king sized, four poster bed with a gorgeous, vintage, beige canopy. the frame is wooden and harry notices quite a few runes scratched in the material, wearing away from old age. he jumps when the sound of his case hitting the floor resounds through the room. he turns and smiles thankfully at tom who smiles, showcasing his wonky teeth —or lack there of. he grunts and shuts the door, the lock somehow keyed into harrys magic with the key on the bed. 

harry sighs, the soft yellow duvet on the bed making him practically melt. yellow has always been a favourite colour of his, yellow and green; lemon and lime. he swiftly makes his way towards his trunk, resetting the featherlight charm and digging around for a pair of pajamas —read: comfortable clothes. he really does need to go shopping for clothes this week, wearing greybacks is nice and all but he doesn’t have enough of those to last him all year. 

he eventually decides to wear one of greybacks shirts and a pair of his joggers. the only clothes he kept in his trunk were the ones from greyback, dudleys hand-me-downs are still in his closet at the dursleys. it looks like greyback also added extra clothes when nyx went to pick up his trunk because he doesn’t remember half of these being here earlier. 

jumping onto the bed, he waves his hands to shut the curtains and the lamps immediately light up on the walls. nyx flies over, the letter from earlier being hoisted into his hands. 

_kid,_

_i don’t know if you had anything to do with that floating lady but nyx is after your trunk. i’m writing this quickly so that hedwig can get this to you when you get wherever you are. remember to stay safe and always wear your glasses incase you get into trouble. i still want copies of your essays and school work with grades. i’ll see you next summer, unless you use your portkey in lethal danger. that hopefully won’t happen but hearing about your hogwarts years... it might._

_take care,_

_mr grey_

harry snorts to himself. grey never really did master the intimidating appearance with him and it just comes across as worried. greyback always sounds like a mother sending her child to their first day at high school and it never fails to amuse harry. 

sliding the letter aside, harry notes to write a reply tomorrow. he shoves his hands under the pillow, his wand in place already as he lets his eyes drift shut, the door full of privacy charms —ones from previous people who stayed in the room, the leaky cauldron itself and harrys own spells shining brighter than the others, his magic humming in content. 

the next morning, harry sits on the covers of the bed, the windows letting a slightly cool breeze in. he’s meditating his occlumency barriers like he has every morning, after the gringotts trip it all became so much easier. now more than ever, his barriers come in useful; they keep his magic from lashing out in anger every time he remembers what dumbledore did to him. 

the coffee table shaking catches his attention. his parselbook is hidden safely in his pocket library —he’s going to find a more secure trunk today, one that he can shrink and hide more... delicate things in so that none of his nosy roommates find them, or worse, dumbledore— so it can’t be that book shaking the table. 

it takes him a moment to realise it’s the book hagrid gave him for his birthday, ‘the monster book of monsters’. it’s a furry, ugly thing with a leather latch keeping it shut. harry knows how the book works, his parselbook has a snake protecting it that curls around him protectively. why on earth the book is acting up now, he has no idea. he hasn’tgotten any trouble from it before. 

the book seems agitated and harry vaguely wonders if it’s from lack of attention. the latch breaks open and the book scurries under the bed, he jumps at the sudden clatter of noise and movement —definitely lack of attention then. 

he gingerly tucks his arms underneath his chest, leaning over the edge of the bed to peer underneath. the book stares at him with all four beady eyes. “is someone lacking attention?” he coos and the book moves forward as if insulted, lashing out to bite him. he gasps at the audacity of the book and his magic curls around the thing. 

the book becomes subdued with his magic and harry gently picks it up, stroking its spine to make it placid. he finally redoes the buckle on the book, he hadn’t fully done it up last time because the book hadn’t tried to bite him but he doesn’t want to take any chances right now. he carefully deposits the book into his pocket library, away from all valuable books, nearer to the lockhart ones —he kept them for entertainment sake. 

he supposes he should go shopping now, he can visit knockturn alley properly as well under nyx. he hasn’t used his invisibility cloak much, greybacks needed it more than him and he can’t really buy anything when he’s invisible. he’ll just cast a strong notice-me-not and apply his glamours. he should look for books on how to transfer horcruxes —he should write to griphook about that as well. his magical purge had been purely on blocks and the horcrux hadn’t done anything but sit there and look pretty. 

groaning, he pulls himself out of bed as nyx turns the shower on. nyx has the ability of either knowing what he wants before he does or forcing him to do what he needs. he supposes he could use a shower right now to be fair. 

he drops his clothes in a pile and purposely avoids the mirror, grimacing slightly at the scars he can see marring his body. his hair has become more manageable since the purge; it’s become darker and his curls more neat than a messy birds nest. his eyes also have a hint of grey in them but the green never faded, the grey just adds an extra eye catching feature. his cheekbones, always pronounced from lack of nutrition, seem higher, but maybe they always have been and his glasses just hid the slightly feminine features. 

after cleaning himself up and changing into clean clothes, a jumper and jeans, he gathers his key. he purposely leaves his glasses beside his bed before casting the blue eyes, dirty blonde hair glamour onto himself, his scars vanishing underneath the powerful magic. he looks noticeably un-potter-like and that’s perfect, the point of the glamour really. he places the white rose inside his trunk and then casts the notice-me-not, nyx wrapping around his shoulders as well. he pulls up the hood of his cloak —or well nyxs hood— and silently makes his way out of the room, locking it behind him. 

making his way into the pub, harry sees a lack of customers which isn’t unusual seeing as its still early morning hours. he makes his way to the twice before visited wall that leads to diagon alley and gently taps the pattern onto the wall, watching in awe —he does each time— as the wall opens to reveal the alleyway. 

he makes his way to gringotts first, with greyback as his magical guardian now, he can take as much money as he needs and dumbledore won’t be suspicious in the slightest. 

“teller griphook, may your gold ever flow!” he greets cheerily and the goblins head snaps up. he grins fondly, as fond as sharp teeth can look and nods his head at harry. “i was wondering if i can make a withdrawal, i’m going shopping you see?” he says unaware of the many goblin eyes watching them. goblin magic makes it possible for them to see the boys magic and through his glamours, they’re still interested after the last interaction.

griphook pulls a bag out from under his desk. “this is a pouch linked directly to your vaults so you can take as much as you need. will that be all today, young one?” he asks as harry picks up the bag with thanks. 

“actually there is one other thing,” griphook nods in acknowledgement for harry to continue. “i was wondering if you could look into the horcruxes of tom riddle for me. you see, voldemort coming back isnt really ideal for me and i’d rather get that possibility out of the way as soon as possible, enjoy my years at hogwarts instead!” he rambles. 

“i’ll make sure to let you know what i find and write to you about anything that arises.” griphook says solemnly, he’d get his best team on this if it means the boy can enjoy his life without threat of a madman killing him hanging over his head. 

“...if it’s no bother, could you also find me a copy of sirius blacks trial?” he asks softly and griphook nods. he’s in contact with the goblin in charge of the black vaults and by blood adoption, harry is technically a black. 

smiling, harry takes the bag he came for and leaves with a weight lifted off his chest. he doesn’t have to think about either of those other things for now. 

the first stop harry wants to make is  _ flourish and blotts _ bookstore. he can’t officially talk to mcgonogall until hogwarts without it looking suspicious, he also has no idea if his letters are being intercepted. that’s why he’s waiting until he can get hedwig a tag that makes her immune to tracking spells and compulsions. so far the letters coming in haven’t been intercepted but he doubts his letters going out haven’t been scanned through for approval —not that he would mention anything scandalous in a letter, especially greyback. 

harry, after a bit of thought, changes his course. harry potter is expected to be in the street this week and he can see the odd person scanning the street for him. this means he’ll have to walk around without his glamour on and with his glasses. so he decides to get his more disapproved things first. turning swiftly on his heel, he heads into knockturn alley. 

he finds a clothes shop first and grins sharply to himself. he pulls down his hood, revealing his glamoured features and flicks off his notice-me-not. he gingerly walks inside and is greeted by a very pretty witch. she has spindly black curls tied back in a high ponytail and a skintight black dress that doesn’t fit well with pureblood standards. the dress is tight and the skirt barely reaches mid thigh, the arms are lacy and covered in a black flowery pattern. she seems just like harrys type of person. 

“hello sweetheart, how can i help you?” her face shows nothing but kindness but her eyes,  _ her eyes _ are full of madness. her eyes flicker between him and to the window, he realises that somehow the window is tinted on the outside. he pushes his magic out and isn’t surprised to find magic encasing the window, he saw inside when he obviously shouldn’t have. 

“i sort of need a new wardrobe, you see i’m sick of the rags i have...” he says and she cackles sharply. 

“of course, i can help you with that youngling,” she takes him by the arm and makes him stand on a block. “if you don’t mind taking off your cloak!” harry thinks for a few seconds before shrugging. he isn’t about to tell anyone about what happens in here and neither is she if the tinted windows show anything. nyx flies off him to curl up in a ball underneath the small stream of sunlight entering through the window. “now  _that_ is a cloak!” she whistles and harry chuckles under his breath. 

a measuring tape comes flying at him much like at madam malkins, he doesn’t flinch though. she cracks a smile and he raises an eyebrow at her, he’s seemingly passed a test of sorts. the tape flies around him, taking actual measurements instead of the silly ones that ollivanders takes like in between your nostrils. 

the tape tightens around his waist to see what lays beneath the shirt and he cringes at the way it keeps tightening. it stops at 22 inches and harry grimaces at the number. he knows he is skinny, unhealthily so, but this is about 4 inches under average. “if i had a waist as small as you...” the woman trails of dreamily and harry snorts slightly despite himself. “anything particular doll?” the woman questions when she has a piece of parchment full of his final measurements. 

“well i’d prefer the colours blue and green i guess but other than that, surprise me.” he tells her and she smiles wickedly, fabric already flying in from all directions. 

“come back in about two hours, i should be done by then. we don’t get many customers in here.” she gives him a look full of knowing and harry paints a look of innocence onto his face, batting his eyelashes at her as if to say ‘i don’t know what you mean’. 

“it’s a shame really, you seem to know what you’re doing...” he says softly as he picks nyx up. 

“i’ll see your in a bit sweetheart!” she calls as he leaves the store, pulling nyx back over his shoulders but leaving the hood down this time. a few wizards and witches have spotted him between his entry and exit, it’d be pointless to hide when they’ve seen him. he also can’t explain why wherever he walks is shrouded in darkness when his hood is up —well he can, but he definitely shouldn’t go around telling people about nyx. 

_ trunk _ . damn, he’s glad he remembered about that. he can’t keep those clothes in his other trunk, he’s sure the elves look through it under dumbledores command. he wonders if he can get a hufflepuff to show him the kitchens. either way he needs friends other than ron and hermoine, hufflepuff is the best place to start really or ravenclaw. slytherin though, he can barely go near the house before he’s got a good friend group settled because he’d be cast out again like last year. 

it’s not hard to find a trunk shop, it’s a corner building, abandoned looking with a warm tone. the windows on higher floors are sloppily boarded up but trunks lay outside the building, showcasing what’s inside. you obviously can’t just take a trunk, it’d be useless that way anyways. you need to have it keyed to your magic and they’re definitely keyed to the owner of the store if the blue magic around them all says anything. 

upon entering, harrys blasted by a wave of dark blue magic. he grins up at the shop owner, the man has wards on the door that try to repel customers. it’s bad for business in all honesty. he bounds up to the counter, the mans left side of his face is covered in scars and he looks entirely unsure of himself. sure, he looks intimidating but harry can see right through his tough facade. 

“hello! i was wondering if you could help me?” he asks sweetly and the owner blinks at him, his straight brown hair falling into his eyes. 

“what with?” he asks suspiciously. honestly, harry doubts they’re sending children to hunt down dark wizards nowadays. 

“i need a trunk that i can hide all my artefacts in!” he says, grin not fading even as the man raises an eyebrow. 

“alright... i think i’ve got the perfect one,” the man seems to keep harry in his line of sight at all times, does harry really look that out of place? then he realises, yes, he does because he’s a thirteen year old in the stereotypical dark alleyway your parents tell you to stay away from. funny thing is, he doesn’t have parents. “where are your parents kid?” oh, this guy picked up on it as well. harry supposes someone would ask today. 

“they died ages ago.” he says with a shrug as the man momentarily freezes. the man surveys his reactions for a moment but finds he hasn’t upset harry and quickly picks up the trunk. “it’s okay you know? you didn’t offend me in any way. i get that you were just curious!” he reassures the man because harry knows he’s that type of person. the self deprecating kind of person who blames themselves and let’s everything spiral out of control without asking if they’ve truly upset someone. 

“here,” the man says and puts the trunk on the counter. “it won’t open to anyone but yourself. four compartments each with a different password of your choosing. anyone else tries their luck with this bad boy and if they’re lucky, they’ll only lose a finger.” the man smirks and harry giggles slightly. “just place your wand here and push your magic into the trunk to replace mine.” he tells harry. 

harry smiles and gently placed his wand on the trunk before gathering his magic, pushing it forward. he jumps slightly at the amount he let out, he accidentally forced more magic than he was supposed to and by the looks on the mans face, he knows it too. he raises an eyebrow at harry who smiles sheepishly and pushes a stray strand of blonde hair out of his face. “some power you got kid, good luck. if you need any more help i’ll still be here for a while!” he snickers and harry pays for the trunk before shrinking it down, pocketing it. 

“oh, and sir?” he calls from the doorway to catch the owners attention once more. the man looks over for him to carry on, “i hope things get better for you...” he says softly. the mans eyes widen slightly as he follows harrys line of sight. he nods solemnly and harry salutes him once more, jumping out of the store. harry isn’t stupid, he knows exactly where those scars on the mans arms have come from and it isn’t a bear thats for sure. 

his next stop is the bookstore in the alleyway, not flourish and blotts which he’ll visit later, as harry potter. he moves inside patently, the eyes of the streets occupants finding him in the crowds. the room is taller than it looks on the outside, the rows of books going high up into the ceiling with a spiral staircase leading to each floor. 

he makes his way to the ritual section, he’s been meaning to look up some of the traditional ones that wizard-kind perform. he’s heard whispers about them in hogwarts before but never paid much attention, he doubted he could’ve paid much attention with all those blocks. 

he smiles and waves at the customers he passes by, they look at him like he’s insane and well, harry supposes he’s a tad loopy but who isn’t at this point. they pass by in blurs of dark magical auras that harry can’t bother to decipher right now. they all seem bewitched by him as well and merlin harry needs to get a hold on his magic again, he supposes he can’t help it anyways. sighing, harry shakes that train of thought off, he’ll figure it out later. 

he pays for the stack of books he’s gathered and quickly deposits them into his pocket library. 

he swiftly makes his way to the potions store, he needs to stock up on ingredients to make more healing potions. 

“are you lost child?” harry freezes at the voice before quickly gathering himself. he plasters in a warm smile and turns to face the man, his arms still full of ingredients. 

“no sir.” harry replies to the blonde man. his heart dropping in his chest as snape walks up behind lucius malfoy, maybe he’s been caught? 

“that’s a lot of ingredients for a child...” snape drawls with a raised eyebrow and harry fights his hardest not to snarl at that man. seriously these people have no clue about personal boundaries do they?

“it’s for my healing potions, i’m running out of them and need to brew more.” there’s no harm in telling them this. harry potter lives a pampered life somewhere in hawaii for all he knows, he doubts dumbledore would tell them the truth anyways. 

the elder malfoy’s aura is strong, a dark blue while snapes is a lighter shade of green. it’s oddly suiting for them both and harrys suddenly glad he picked up some more books on auras earlier. 

“what would you need healing potions for?” sharp blue and onyx eyes track his every movement. harry feels vaguely threatened in a sense as they tower over him. he wouldn’t call it hovering because there’s clearly no concern for his wellbeing in either of them —well if there was any concern itd be from the malfoy before snape, the vampire child slayer, as he’s named by hogwarts students. 

harrys smile truly falters and his eyes darken slightly. he stares away from them with haunted eyes too old for his body, he might as well tell them while they have no idea he’s harry potter. “the people i live with dont really care for magic...” he chuckles awkwardly and shrugs as he turns back to the jarred ingredients. 

he hears startled noises from behind him and winces inwardly before pushing his magic out slightly, perhaps the entrancement will help them overlook what he just let on— “do they hurt you?” —or maybe not. he shrugs again because he doesn’t talk about what the dursleys do, not even with greyback with the exception of a few times; greyback never asks, just cleans up his wounds. 

he pays for his ingredients and places them gently in his trunk, aware of the eyes watching his back. “if you’ll excuse me, i’ve an order to pick up.” he gently moves past them and out of the door. 

he catches them following him despite their disillusion charms because the dark green and blue magic takes the shape of people where they are no doubt standing, watching him. he quickly picks up his clothes from the crazy witch he was with earlier and also places that in his trunk. 

when he exits the shop again he stares at their auras, waiting for them to do something. it’s really nosy of them to follow him and rude because the reason they’re trailing him is they don’t believe him. he scowls at the auras and he can imagine the shock on their faces or dismissal because they doubt his power. he pulls his hood up and turns away, he faintly hears malfoy laughing and snapes guffaw as his robes billow out behind him. when he’s far enough away he recasts his notice-me-not and heads straight back for the leaky cauldron. 

by the time he has his curly hair and green eyes back, his new trunk is tucked away in his original trunk, hidden because he can’t keep it on him now. his glasses are firmly placed on his nose and he finds the weight reassuring in a way. nyx is still draped around him because harry potter or not, he’ll be damned if he leaves without her. 

so he leaves the leaky cauldron in plain sight, looking flushed each time someone greets him as he tries to get to flourish and blotts. maybe he can just go back and get his invisibility cloak? he looks abashed but he hates the way they all look at him, it makes his skin prickle because these are the people who only see harry potter, the defeated of the dark lord, the chosen one; he wants to be plain harry, the one taught magic by a werewolf, the delinquent who lives at the dursleys. he feels like he’s on display for merlins sake and he’s thirteen years old. 

he gathers the required books for this year at hogwarts, ancient runes and arithmancy included even if he hadn’t had time to visit mcgonogall yet. then he’s in eeylops owl emporium buying an anklet for hedwig that prevents interception and meddling. finally he comes to a stop outside the quality quidditch supplies window display. 

his eyes sparkle slightly as he eyes the broom on display. he looks up and snorts when he finds charmed lights casting pretty lights on the broom. firebolt; it’s name. it’s like a typical movie scene of falling in love when the camera zooms in and the lights turn all shades of pink except with a broom. harry turns away with a huff, he’s happy with his nimbus thank you very much. 

he halts when he feels another magical presence, it’s not greyback however and there’s no one he’s really familiar with since his gringotts trip unless it’s a goblin itself. turning, he finds himself meeting familiar grey eyes. he exhales with a small sigh, smiling softly at the grim. the dog is frozen and harry wonders if whoever it is apparated here or walked all the way here in animal form —he really hopes it’s the former. the dog tilts its head, slowly, unsurely and harry giggles under his breath. 

he waves tiredly at the dog before making his way back to the leaky cauldron. he’s reeled his magic in so the only eyes that are on him now are the people in awe and dumbledore’s eyes —well not dumbledore himself, just his little followers. harrys exhausted by now and cannot for the life of him be bothered to deal with anymore suck ups. he briskly makes his way back into the leaky cauldron and collapses on the bed before writing a reply to grey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minister: blowing up your aunt doesn’t put you in azkaban  
> Harry: ...I’m finna blow up aunt petunia next time  
> Hedwig: hoot hoot motherfucker


	9. lips are blue

his friends arrive on tuesdays the next week, the day before they leave for hogwarts on the express. he leaves his room, runes book in hand. he’s reading over the material so he can use it to convince mcgonogall even more, he can’t use his extensive knowledge because he isn’t supposed to have any books at the dursleys —how could he of unless he left the house?

his notebooks upstairs are filled to the brim with notes on the transfer rituals he’s come across, the ones using bones seem more promising than the simple 50/50 ones. he’s hidden those books right next to his parselbook, in the pocket library which is now in his new trunk hiding in amongst his clothes so that only he can get them. 

it hasn’t been hard to feed nyx since he found her, she has fruit with the occasional field mouse to quench her needs. lethifolds need the occasional douse of meat to keep their cravings at bay, at least nyx does anyways. she warms up perfectly fine from being well fed on grapes and dragonfruit; she’ll eat the stray rats that scurry around the floor at night however and the two of them are perfectly okay with that routine. it’s come to his attention that nyx’s temperature varies mostly on atmosphere, when shes cold it’s warm; shes warm when it’s cold. the coldness isn’t the same as the described dementor feeling when he first met her, it’s more soothing now and he welcomes the change. if greyback were here, he’d laugh and howl —that isn’t meant to be a pun— about him domesticating a lethal creature. 

he watches in amusement as a cat chases a rat down the stairs and makes his way down after them. he shuts his book and leans on the banister, glasses digging into his head where he’s leaning on his hand, tilting his head to look at his friends. he quirks his lip slightly when he finds hermoine holding the cat and ron holding the rat he just watched chase each other. the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they saying goes. 

“your cats a menace! it tried to eat scabbers!” ron squeals and harry wants to wince at the state of his friends hair. 

“i think she’s a darling ‘mione...” he speaks up and they both turn to him, exclaiming his name. he walks down the rest of the stairs, facing his friends with a small smile. 

hermoine pulls him into a hug and he pushes down the strong urge to push her away. ever since the trip to gringotts he’s been trying to figure out wether she knew about the memory thing or didn’t and he can’t come to a conclusion. besides from that, her hugs reminds him of the way aunt petunia would grip his arm too tightly —her smile too forced and plastic as she talked to people in the grocers glaring at harry as though he’d dare say anything. rons hug is even worse, his hug feels wrong, they both feel wrong and it makes harry feel tense at the way his friends arms sloppily wrap around him. 

“what’s the special occasion?” he asks hermoine as he gestures to theginger cat that seems to be carefully clawing at her arm to let it down. 

“i used my parents allowance to buy crookshanks, i haven’t been remembering things all that well lately and they told me to cheer myself up.” she says with a shrug. harry feels guilty but his need to laugh outweighs the other even if he covers it up with a cough. of course she can’t remember things easily, she was practically using his mind. 

he swiftly moves around them after a brief conversation, greeting mrs and mr weasley. “harry dear! have you gotten everything you need? books? clothes?” mrs weasley pesters. 

“yes it’s all upstairs!” he says with a bright smile. mrs weasley has always been kind to him, even when he was just one of rons friends she’d never met. 

“harry! wonder if i might have a word?” mr weasley greets him and harry sees him not-so-subtly glance towards one of the wanted signs of sirius black that are plastered everywhere in the pub. 

“mr weasley, of course.” harry says and the elder weasley leads him behind a pillar. they pass by ginny who grins dopily at harry, blushing brightly.

mr weasley places a hand on his shoulder, guiding him along as they talk, “there’s people in the ministry who would strongly advise me against divulging what i’m about to reveal to you, but i think you need to know the facts. you are in danger, grave danger.” harry wants to laugh at the similarities between dobbys warnings last year. 

“this doesn’t have anything to do with sirius black does it?” he makes himself look scared because let’s be honest, if he’s not afraid of voldemort he’s not going to be afraid of some b-tech version of his original megalomaniac. 

“what do you know about sirius black harry?” he seems to try and watch harry carefully but the boy shrugs. 

“only that he’s a mass murderer and escaped from azkaban...” if only that’s the extent of what he knew. these wizards consider him so blind as they talk about the supposed murderer in the streets. 

“well thirteen years ago when you stopped...” the pause is obvious. 

“voldemort—“ 

“don’t say his name!” mr weasley reprimands and harry shrugs awkwardly with added sorry. “but when you defeated you-know-who, black lost everything and remains a loyal servant to this day. in his mind you’re the only thing standing in the way of you-know-who returning to power.” technically he is the only thing standing in the way but he wants to scoff at the notion of black being a death eater right now because what proof do they have? according to an actual death eater black had nothing to do with them and if he were so important wouldn’t every death eater know his name. when the power source fails you go to the back up, do you not? “that is why he has escaped from azkaban, to find you.” 

“and kill me!” harry adds but his sarcasm isn’t picked up by mr weasley. 

“harry, whatever you do, i want you to promise you won’t go looking for black!”  _ i won’t have to _ , he wants to snark. 

“why would i go looking for someone who wants to kill me?” he says softly, they really must think him naive. now all he has to figure out is wether the weasleys work under dumbledore. 

“very good lad!” the elder weasley pats his shoulder before wondering off to join his wife. 

rubbing the bridge of his nose, harry sighs deeply. really can’t he have one year at hogwarts without the threat of someone having his head. he opens his book again, the cover transfigured to look like an average quidditch book to hide it from the likes of hermoine. 

he stumbles straight into a broad chest and mentally kicks himself for not paying attention. he’s falling back but before he hits the floor, a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist, catching him. “harrikins!” hes so glad it’s just the twins. he’s never been able to find them overbearing, no matter how much the hogwarts staff complain or the students glare. 

he pushes his magic out, the twins have always felt safer than most. he smiles up at george, the one who’s holding him. “hi george. he says softly. the difference between the twins has never been obvious but harry took the time to learn the difference, he felt horrible when he mixed them up, their faces when mrs weasley mixes them up was enough to realise it hurt their feelings more than they let on. 

george has broader shoulders and his eyes are a darker blue to fred’s. fred’s hair is more wavy and his eyes are lighter with hints of brown around the pupil. now, with his increased magical sensitivity it shows the difference in their auras. george’s is dark, scarlet red while fred’s is lighter, rosy red. 

george blinks at him in surprise. “well, well, well. freddy it looks like out little harry can tell us apart, the jiggs up!” he dramatically explains as fred pretends to wipe tears from his face. 

“i’ve always been able to tell the difference! you’re not the same person yanno?” he comments with a raised eyebrow as they smile at him, it’s bright in a way he hasn’t really seen them direct at anyone but each other. 

harrys content to just stay in george’s arms for now. they’re comforting in a way that reminds him of greybacks scarce hugs and he’s so glad he hugged greyback before he left last time he saw the man. “perhaps he’s our little admirer!” fred teases as they lead him over to a couch in front of the fire. he’s embarrassed to admit that he squealed when he’s yanked into fred’s lap. “not enough room!” fred states mischievously and harry rolls his eyes. 

“he’s already fallen for me fred, i would imagine so!” george carries on fred’s earlier comment about him being an admirer. harry glares and throws his legs up onto george’s lap where he sits next to fred, opening his book to read while the twins bounce prank ideas between each other. 

the next morning at around ten, harry wishes goodbye to tom behind the bar as he’s swept away to platform nine and three quarters. the goodbyes with the weasleys are rushed and before he knows it, he’s in a carriage with ron, hermoine and a strange man who’s covered by a fleecy blazer. 

no ones commented on how his clothes look slightly bigger than usual or how they hang off him. maybe they just believe it’s because of the dursleys starving him, sure, hermoine doesn’t know about that but ron does. the weasley adults don’t believe him anyways so why should his friends. trustworthy adults, he’s finding, are far and few in between. 

“who’s that?” ron asks, staring at the man with obvious revolt. 

“r. j. lupin.” hermoine reads from the mans trunk. 

“do you know everything?” harry wants to slap him, luckily hermoine cuts in by pointing at the trunks nameplate. “why’s he here?” ron questions glaring at the sleeping man. 

“probably the defense teacher...” harry sighs softly and they both give him these pitying looks that makes want to leave. they can’t pity him because it’s not them the defense teachers target year after year. 

harry pushes his magic out, something about the professor just isn’t settling with him right, not in a bad way though and that’s what’s confusing him. he’s startled to find the same spilt magic as greyback a, _a_ _werewolf_ _?_ how utterly bizarre. maybe he’s wrong, he hasn’t known more than one werewolf so how can he be sure of the mans nature? he’ll have to keep an eye on it but it’s probably best not to mention that little fact to anyone. 

“yeah but why’s he on the train?” so harry decides to tell them what mr weasley told him about sirius black, nothing more; probably less in retrospect. 

“so sirius black is after you?” rons giving him that look again. harry can literally see the horrible jealousy in his face, how he’s missed it before, he hasn’t the slightest. it disgusts him how ron gets jealous over not being in the spotlight when he’s the one with a supposed murderer after him. 

“they’ll catch black, won’t they? i mean everyone’s looking for him!” ever the observer —has she really lost all common sense? hermoines smart on her own, now she’ll have to spend her time studying instead of using harrys eidetic memory. 

“sure, except no ones broken out of azkaban before and he’s a murderous, raving, lunatic!” while his magic is still out harry finds himself staring at scabbers. the rat squirms under his gaze, he almost growls when he senses the same wizarding magic that surrounds the dog and mcgonogall. if that truly is a wizard, harrys going to have his head before crookshanks does at this rate. 

“oh thanks ron!” harry bites back sarcastically at rons words. they really should’ve soaped down their description of the man, he can see the fear on the redheads face. they’re instilling fear into school children and what’re they to do if black shows up, they can’t fight him so why tell them of him?

the train lurches and the horrendous screech of the breaks fills the air. “why’re we stopping? we can’t be there yet!” hermoine furrows her brows, staring at them as if they have the answer. 

harry stands up carefully, nyx pooling into a ball from where he was sat, the movements look like a normal cloak would to anyone who hasn’t the slightest about her being alive. he opens the door carefully and jumps when the train halts, jarring his stance as he stumbles slightly. he hears the sounds of others falling back inside their compartments. 

“what’s going on?” ron grunts fearfully, scabbers squealing unhappily as he squeezes the rat. 

“dunno, maybe we’ve broken down...” harry says calmly, watching up the corridor for any signs of movement. the lights flicker off and harry rolls his eyes at hermoine exclamation when ron steps on her foot accidentally. 

“there’s something moving out there,” he says shakily, pressing his hand to the window as he peers out. “i think... someone’s coming on board!” ron whispers.  _good deduction_ , harry thinks to himself sarcastically. 

ice slowly starts to cover the windows and surfaces of the train as their breath becomes visible in the sudden temperature drop. “stay right here, i’m going to ask the conductor.” harry warns, stepping out of the compartment. he’s realised what’s happening by now, dementors are boarding the train, probably looking for black to give him the kiss. 

the train creaks as it jolts on the bridge they’ve stopped on. harry pulls his arms around himself as he steps away from the compartment. the corridor is abandoned, not a person in sight. harry slowly makes his way out of sight, coming to a blank wall that separates two parts of the long train. he stands in front of the blank wall, making sure nobody can see him as he waits for the dementor —the windows are so fogged up he’s not sure people could see into the corridor anyways. 

slowly but surely a wispy black finger moves down the hallway towards him. it’s skeletal hands scrape across the side of the train with no compartments, a terrible shrieking noise emerges from it like nails on a chalkboard —bone on a train, that’s a comparison harry never thought he’d have to make. 

summoning a memory with greyback at the market he conjures apollo wandlessly, a feat he’s conquered after hours of perfecting his patronus charm. you never know when you need to defend a werewolf from a dementor, who’s to say you have your wand at all? he holds his wand anyways, more for visual purposes and excuse making if someone stumbles upon him. 

he pushes his magic out and the dementor turns to him, gliding eerily towards him. apollo curls behind harry, ready to pounce on the evil bastard. so these are the creatures causing mr grey so much trouble. 

the dementor comes within arms length of him and he gingerly reaches up. he’s not afraid per say, just on alert. the dementor presses it’s head into harrys raised palm, much like a dog would do. it reminds harry an awful lot of the grim he’s been seeing a startled laugh appears from him at the similarities. 

through his laugh he didn’t hear the compartment open down the hall from him. he’s still laughing to himself at the domestic nature of the creature as it nuzzles his hand. he pets it, wondering how greyback would react to the dementor with the way he reacted to the lethifold. 

he’s startled out of his little bubble as another patronus joins his and apollo immediately perks up, pushing the dementor away to seemingly cover up his actions with the dementor. the patronus that joined his is a wolf and harry will bet his eyes that it’s lupins. he turns and sure enough, it’s the —probably— professor. 

“harry!” the mans voice is full of concern as he rushes towards him. he stops a few feet away from harry as he takes in apollo and his own patronus curling around harry like he’s a lighthouse. he huffs when the wolf patronus stops in front of him, wagging its tail as it bends its head down. harry gives in, patting the wolves head before it perks up and disappears back into lupins wand. 

“is that your patronus?” the mans voice is hoarse but sounds like it’s more strained and high pitched than it should be. harry nods as apollo slowly walks forward to the professor, assessing him. apollo adores greyback whenever he’s out around the were, trailing after them man. greyback can act annoyed all he wants but harry knows he’s fond of the dragon that saves him during full moons. “how do you know about the charm? i’m sure it’s a fifth year spell...” lupin pushes for answers as he slowly relaxes, the dragon curling around him in acceptance. 

“i like to read.” harry says simply as he holds up his wand, apollo disappearing back in. “honestly it’s the first time i’ve ever tried the spell.” harry knows he’s lying but technically this happened the first time he tried the spell anyways. apollo hasn’t stuck around either to show how well acquainted he is with the spell, lupin doesn’t know how long he can keep apollo around for, he doesn’t know about the hours spent reading in the patronus’ light underneath the night sky. 

“incredible...” lupin praises and harry blushes slightly, he’s still not used to praise from anyone, he’s still awkward when greyback praises him so. 

“it’s nothing really...” he says an briskly turns on his heel to go check on the compartment nearest to him, they were no doubt affected the most from his encounter.he opens the door to find a group of older years in hufflepuff colours. “is everyone okay?” he asks softly and they nod, seemingly in awe of him. 

professor lupin walks up behind him after having jogged back to the compartment they were in and gives the students chocolate. “chocolate, it’ll help!” he smiles warmly at the students and harry knows he’s different to the defense teachers they’ve had before. 

harry helps him check the rest of the train before they head back to their compartment. “what was it harry!” hermoine exclaims as soon as they walk in. 

“dementors, ghastly things!” lupin shivers to himself and perhaps he’d get along with greyback should they ever meet. then again harry isn’t sure how well greyback deals with people, he’s been told multiple times he’s an exception to most things by the man. “harry here cast an impressive patronus for his first time casting it!” lupin smiles at him and harry cringes to himself because the mans so nice he doesn’t even consider he’s being lied to. 

“oh harry, can we see it please!” hermoine begs and harry immediately shakes his head. he doesn’t like sharing his skills with others at all, apollo is extremely important to harry as well and he’d hate for his friends to use it as bragging rights or to put malfoy in his place. 

she stares at him, hard. “i’m really tired hermoine plus it was just a stroke of potter luck, i don’t think i could do it again if i wanted to!” he bats his eyes at her until she gives in, sighing fondly to herself. professor lupin smiles and takes his leave to confront the conductor, farewells exchanged as he goes. 

dumbledore introduces the new defense against the dark arts teacher as remus lupin, everyone claps politely, he won’t last longer than a year at most, the positions cursed. apparently professor kettleburn wanted to keep his limbs in tact so hagrid is taking over care of magical creatures and that birthday present makes a lot more sense now, the man never was discreet with secrets. 

“potter.  _potter_ !” he hears loud whispers from behind him and turns to face malfoy with a raised brow. he can’t honestly bring himself to hate malfoy, he’s just a boy in his fathers shadow. everything he’s done over the last few years has been led by fear and now without harrys added ‘dislike slytherin’ compulsion, the boy just seems... attention craving. 

“yes malfoy?” he asks calmly and something flickers through the boys eyes. harry can feel ron glaring at him from next to him as if to ask why he’s being civil with the enemy. 

“i heard you fainted? is that true?” it’s seems malfoys trying to taunt him but harry honestly has no idea what he’s on about. “i mean you actually fainted?” he asks as the slytherin next to him dramatically re-enacts ‘harry fainting’. 

“uh no? that didn’t happen...” he says with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side slightly. he pushes his magic out and watches as the slytherins eyes flicker slightly, they can feel the pull of his magic it seems. they suddenly don’t seem so sure of themselves either and harry would ask why they thought that if he didn’t think ron was about to physically stab him. “well if that’s all...” he smiles awkwardly, brows still furrowed and turns around to talk to the twins who placed themselves across from harry, pushing hermoine diagonally. 

“what the bloody hell was that harry? your were fraternising with the enemy!” ron exclaims in his ear and harry jumps slightly, wincing at the volume of the boys voice. 

“do you even know what fraternising means ron?” he asks with a scowl as the twins glare at their youngest brother, picking up on the uncomfortable way harry reacted. 

“well no— that’s not the point! they’re slytherins!” ron splutters loudly and harry rolls his eyes. he wonders what would happen if he just silenced the boy quickly, would anyone notice the lack of quidditch comments from their area and call him out. 

“my point exactly and what do you think fraternising means? for all you know you could’ve just told me i got gangbanged by slytherins.” he concludes, pointing his fork at ron as the boy chokes on the mental image. 

the twins grin sharply and harry facepalms before they even start their commentary, “now wouldn’t that be a pretty sight—“ fred starts as he turns to george, both faking dreamy looks. 

“—pretty little potter—“ harry laughs as they go on and ron chokes even more. 

“—all spread out for the slimy gits—“ hermoine starts scowling and harry rolls his eyes, she always has to stop the fun. 

“enough!” she scolds, giving harry a worried look. he looks down, pretending he’s upset by their comments. “id rather not hear about harrys sex life anymore!” she hisses, literally hisses at them and they cackle. 

“your loss, i wonder if the slytherins would let us join?” fred asks wistfully and harrys sure they’re joking ...hopes they are anyways. 

“honestly it’s not like i said anything they could use against me! you didn’t stand up for me either so you can’t complain!” harry chides ron and the twins nod seriously as if he’s committed an execution worthy crime. “hermoine chill out sweetheart, they’re just joking. if they aren’t well i know a few spells that’ll hurt as much as castration...” she grins sheepishly at him, her face still flushed from the imagery. the twins exchange looks before staring at harry trying to test the accuracy of his claims. “do you want a display of those spells?” he asks sarcastically as he raises his wand. they pale and shake their heads rapidly. 

“are you and hermoine together?” the two of them look at him incredulously. “it’s just you called her sweetheart and she got angry when they talked about you with other people...” it’s a smart deduction, but a very wrong conclusion on rons end. 

“that what you got from that?” he does sometimes wonder how rons mind works, he’s quite impressed with his skill to pick up on useless information. “no hermoine and i aren’t together ronald.” he mocks and watches the red head flush as the twins howl with laughter. 

as they’re leaving the great hall, harry catches sight of mcgonogall with the other teachers as they leave. now is as good a time as any. “i’ve gotta talk to mcgonogall i’ll see you in the common room!” he shouts over his shoulder as he heads for the grey haired woman. 

“professor mcgonogall?” he asks softly, pushing his magic out to help seal his case as the group of teachers turn to him. she nods, “i was wondering if i could talk to you about something?” he fiddles with his hands, his nervousness quite true for once. 

professor mcgongalls eyebrows furrow and her eyes soften slightly. “just a second and i’ll be right with you mr potter!” she says as she turns to finish the last of her conversation with the professors. he sees professor lupin watching him with a concerned look as he keeps his eyes on the floor, hating the way he has to interrupt a teachers conversation. “come along mr potter, we can talk in my office.” she says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him away from the entrance of the great hall. 

he’s led into the familiar transfiguration classroom and she gestured him to sit on the armchair in front of her desk as she moves to sit behind her desk. “what troubles you mr potter?” she’s asks softly as harry glares at his hands wondering why he’s having so much trouble asking a question. 

“it’s about my choices,” he admits softly. she gestures for him to continue, “it’s just i don’t want to drop anything ive chosen but i was wondering if i could self study ancient runes and arithmancy. i’ve been reading about them in summer and they’re really interesting, i promise i’ll work really hard professor!” he rambles on and she seems to lose her serious, concerned expression for a small smile. 

“mr potter, please do take time to breathe. i think, yes, this is a very good opportunity for you and i’m glad you have chosen to ask me about it. i shall set it up with professor vector and babbling so that you can still have a similar work plan and essays as the others in your class. however i dare say mr potter, with a mind like yours, as long as you apply it, i see no reason why you cannot go further than those others in your class. you have a bright mind mr potter, it’s well you’re using it, so like your mother!” harry breathes a sigh of relief, he knew it would work but he was just so nervous for reasons he can’t comprehend. professor mcgonogall chuckles slightly, “come on now mr potter, i think it’s time we joined the others in the tower!” she says as they both stand and exit the room. 

“you won’t tell dumbledore, will you?” he asks softly and she gazed at him with an unreadable expression. 

“would you like me to mr potter?” she seems to think he’s doing this to get on the headmasters good side now, as if he’ll start trouble and then get out of it because he’s studying more or something. 

“id rather we just keep it between us and the other two professors. hermoine is my best friend but if dumbledore knows about it, he’s sure to mention it around me and i don’t want hermoine getting angry with me. she’s already upset lately because she keeps forgetting things and i don’t want to make it worse!” it’s the truth, just not the full truth; a half-truth. she nods sighing as she pats his shoulder. 

“then i will do no such thing as tell the headmaster, we shall keep it between the four of us. tonight i will go over it with them and you will receive a note alongside your schedule tomorrow. you have a heart of gold mr potter, choose who you give it to wisely,” she says and they come to a stop in front of the fat lady. “fortuna major.” the professor says and ushers him inside. he grins dopily at her and she gives him a fond smile before turning to the first years with her trademark stern look. 

he bounds up the stairs and into the dorm room, smiling at the other boys. “what’d you see mcgonogall for ‘arry?” seamus asks and this is why harry can’t tell ron anything, he tells, everyone. suppose he told ron he was pregnant as a joke, the whole of wizarding britain might be sending him congratulations and well wishes the next day. 

“oh you know, sirius black...” he says solemnly as he tucks his new trunk under his pillow, the one he had hidden inside nyx’s pocket all day. he slides her off his shoulders too, placing her on the bed so that it’s warm for when he gets in. 

“he’s after you aint he?” seamus is always so blunt it makes harry chuckle as he nods. he picks up his pajamas and heads into the bathroom to change in one of the stalls. 

as he’s walking out of the stall in his pajamas —greybacks joggers and his t-shirt— he sees neville leaning over the sink. he places his clothes gently on an empty shelf and makes his way over to the trembling boy. “nev, you alright?” he asks softly and neville turns obviously trying to wipe tears off his face. “hey, hey it’s okay. what’s the matter?” he asks softly as he approaches the boy, rubbing his back gently. 

“i’m just lonely you know? i’ve been alone all summer because my grandma doesn’t like me and then i get here with no friends either.” neville sniffles and harry wraps his arm around the boys shoulders. 

“hey, i’d like to think in your friend nev. i’m always here if you need anyone even for the stupidest things or if you want to talk about a new plant you have!” he knows the boy loves herbology and hates when people shoot him down, he didn’t know much about herbology until meeting greyback but he always loved listening to the boys passionate rambles. 

neville hugs him back tightly and harry smiles despite the dampening patch on his shirt. “thanks harry, you’re a really good friend!” neville says and it pains harry the way he stumbles over the last words. he’s decided to spend more time with neville from now on. 

neville pulls away and his eyes widen dramatically, “i’m so sorry i got your shirt wet harry!” he starts to tear up again but harry laughs softly and takes the boys face in his palms, wiping away his tear with the pads of his thumbs. 

“come on let’s get some sleep before lessons tomorrow.” harry says softly as he picks up his clothes and guides neville over to his bed, ignoring rons scrutiny. “night nev, i’ll see you in the morning!” he says gently before turning to his own bed and flopping down on his covers, yanking his curtains shut before wandlessly throwing up privacy charms and sticking charms to the curtains. 

the next morning harry does make due on his word after he’s changed into his uniform. he’s charmed nyx so that she looks like a typical gryffindor robe, it displeases her but it’s the only compromise that lets her stay with him at all times, he’ll just take it off later for her. 

he waits in the common room for neville, the boy is usually awake and gone before either of his friends join him so he sits quietly with his arithmancy book. “are you waiting for anyone harry?” a soft voice calls and he’s surprised to find lavender brown looking down at him from where she leans on the arm of the couch. 

“i’m just waiting for neville.” he replies softly. she smiles and takes that as an invitation, plopping herself down beside him. 

“you’re never usually up this early. what gives?” she asks as she crosses her legs underneath herself. harry wonders just how many nice people he’s missed being friends with in gryffindor because of his ‘best friends’ selfishness and the blocks. 

“i’m always awake, i just usually take forever dragging ron out of bed.” they laugh softly and turn as neville walks down the stairs, looking like a dear caught in headlights. “you coming with us to breakfast lavender?” he asks and she nods frantically as they meet neville half way to the portrait. she loops her arm through theirs as she pulls them out, neville looks extremely out of his element here. 

as they enter the great hall it’s amusing to watch people do their first cursory glance then do a double take when they see him with the duo. it’s unusual, he knows that. they’ve never been seen together and here they are looking like they’ve know each other since diapers. he can’t help it, they’re just so easy to be comfortable around. they actually take turns talking, asking him for input as well whereas hermoine usually just rambles on about how different the muggle and magical world are. it’s just so  _refreshing_ and he feels free. 

lavender likes to talk about make up and neville likes to ask if she knows the materials that go into it —she does surprisingly, something about not using animal tested products. she asks neville about the plant he apparently had on the train —she’s amazing at observing from his own observations. neville rambles on about the latest herbology discovery and plants that laugh if you tickle them. he asks harry about quidditch, they both do and he asks them about their hobbies outside of school. neville unsurprising likes to look after plants and lavender likes to draw. 

“will you show me your sketchbook sometime?” he asks her as they ignore the weird looks they get from students in the great hall. she nods, agreeing quickly. 

a while later parvarti patil joins them as well as the weasley twins and they easily migrate into the conversation. it’s quite amusing to watch the girls take the twins down a notch and then upgrade their prank ideas. he watches their eyes light up as they bounce ideas off the girls like they do each other. all in all it’s peaceful, serene—

“harry potter!” nevermind. 

he turns to look at hermoine who’s storming over with ron slumping behind her. she looks to neville and lavender as if telling them to move but harry discreetly wraps his arms around their waists so they can’t move away under her glare. “yeah?” he asks softly and her glare softens. 

“ronald was almost late because you didn’t wake him up!” she chides as she seats herself next to the weasley twins and pulls ron down beside her, diagonally opposite harry. 

“i’m not mrs weasley hermoine and i’m sick of getting pushed over when he get grumpy with me for waking him up!” he whines and it’s amusing because he’s like a different person after summer but she doesn’t have a clue. parvarti gives him an appraising look and he thinks he’s passed her personality test, hermoine though... not looking too good on her scale. he lets go of his new friends waist and ignore the way their eyes burn into him for answers, he smiles secretly at them and lavender lets out an unladylike snort as neville snickers under his breath. 

“what’s so funny?” she glowers and harry almost laughs himself as the duo either side of him have no qualms, laughing harder as they clutch their sides. 

“your schedules.” professor mcgongall walks over and she gives harry a look full of knowing pride as he smiles cheekily back at her. she’s proud of him; he’s applying himself and socialising more, something she’s obviously worried about. 

harry reads over his schedule with a pleased smile and quickly checks the note attached. there’s two, one from professor babbling, the ancient runes teacher and one from professor vector, the arithmancy teacher. they’ve asked him to stop by their classrooms as soon as possible so they can outline his work plans and start him off. he doesn’t have to push lavender or neville away as he would’ve if he were sat next to the other two. he folds it up and puts it into his pocket. 

“hermoine you can’t be taking all the electives!” ron exclaims and she ignores him but harry can see the way she looks overly proud of herself for some reason. 

harry gets up with neville and lavender. “where are you going? we just got here?” hermoine huffs and harry sighs inwardly. 

“you just got here, we’ve been here for over an hour,” he tells her and the others nod in confirmation but she’s waiting for more answers. “we’re going to get our bags.” he states and lavender drags them away before it can turn into an argument. 

he’s not exactly dropping ron and hermoine, he’s just making more friends the way he should’ve when he first arrived. he can’t always depend on those two and besides, he’s quite fond of neville already, lavender too. “so tell me about this eyeliner thing.” he says to lavender, cutting through the awkward silence as they trek back to the tower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dementor: *exists*  
> Harry: lol it’s a puppy  
> Professor Lupin: hARRY NO!


	10. an omen is spoken

“welcome, my children,” professor trelawney is a skittish woman, crazy, fuzzy hair and wild eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses. she reminds harry a lot of a mad scientist. “in this room, we will explore the noble art of  _ divination _ !” harry thinks he might’ve heard the twins complain about her being a fraud before. her magic pulses frantically around her as she speaks, silvery coloured wisps outlining her body. “in this room, you shall discover if you have the sight!” then... she walks in to a table and harry can’t help but chuckle softly.

it’s odd in a way, her magic is so powerful she looks as though she’s struggling to contain it by the way her hands shake as she gestures around the room. “together we shall cast ourselves into the future!” harry isnt sure he wants to do that, to see what a mess this world becomes. “this term we will be focusing on tasseomancy which is the art of reading tea leaves; please take the cup of the person sitting opposite you!” her voice is soft and she is definitely unable to command anyone properly if needs be. 

harry sighs, exchanging cups with ron across from him with a gentle smile to try and ease the nervous look on rons face. “the truth lies buried like a sentence deep within a book waiting to be read,” maybe she’s not crazy, there’s something about those silvery lines that make harrys hands itch to pick up his aura book. “but first, you must broaden your minds, you must look beyond!” at least she interacts with students... if tugging seamus’ hair can be counted as interacting. he frowns up at her, quite clearly uncomfortable. 

“what a load of rubbish!” there she is, miss i’m-taking-all-the-electives. harry turns to her with a tight smile, she’s still upset with him for that scene at breakfast but honestly what’s he supposed to do; wait for them and be late because he has to go get his bag? no thanks. she hasn’t been here longer than two minutes, harrys not stupid and he can sense magic, hers definitely wasn’t there a minute ago. 

“where did you come from?” ron rightfully exclaims. 

“me? been here all this time!” she hisses and it’s like she’s trying to guilt trip him after the whole ‘crookshanks the menace’ thing. harry turns away from them as they argue in whispers like an old married couple trying not to disrupt the bingo session because someone ate the wife’s biscuit. 

“you boy!” she points to neville and harry winces to himself. “is your grandmother quite well?” shouldn’t some things be kept to herself, he knows she has the sight but seriously, nevilles thirteen and doesn’t need to worry about his grandmother all the time. 

“uh.. i-i think so!” oh that stutter doesn’t suit him at all, it makes him sound like an adorable chipmunk sure, but he wants neville to be taken seriously. 

“i wouldn’t be so sure of that, hand me the cup,” she turns to dean who’s opposite neville. “oh...hmmm.” she frowns to herself and harry watches fascinated as her aura fluctuates slightly as she stares into the cup before putting it down, moving along. “pity.” she mumbles to herself. 

she stops with an exclamation in front of ron, “your aura is pulsing dear, are you in the beyond?” she asks. rons aura is most definitely not pulsing harry must admit but he wants to see how the boy gets himself out of this one. 

“sure.” he swallows harshly, staring into harrys cup. 

“the cup, tell me what you see!” trelawneys aura is pulsing madly and harry can’t tell if it’s  _ his _ magic she’s reacting to or the cup. he reaches out subtly to poke the silver and smiles disarmingly when she turns sharply to look at him. 

“well you see, harrys got sort of a wonky cross, thats childhood suffering,” ron knows this and definitely can’t see anything at all. “and uh.. that there could be the sun which means happiness,” he can see the cogs turning in the redheads mind. he looks to harry, “so uh.. you’re gonna suffer but you’re gonna be happy about it.” wow. harry smiles comfortingly at the boy, it’s tight and it makes him come across nervous instead of inches away from hexing ron into the teacup himself. 

“give me the cup.” she pops her ‘p’s funnily and harry is about to laugh when she jumps back, dropping the cup loudly. he can practically hear hermoine rolling her eyes. “my dear boy... my dear... you have... the grim!” harry can’t help the surprised snort that comes from him, turning to cover it with a fake gasp alongside the others in class. 

“the grin, whats the grin?” seamus exclaims loudly and bless his soul honestly. 

“not the grin, the grim you idiot!” a boy from further in the stands says and they all turn to look at him, his book already miraculously open on that page. “taking form of a giant spectral dog, it’s among one of the darkest omens in our world. it’s an omen of death!”he finishes and harry picks up the teacup, surprised he can actually see the dog himself. he hums as everyone has their eyes on him. 

“makes sense,” he says cooly. “don’t worry professor, i  _ know _ i’ll be alright. he’s friendly.” he says factually with a soft smile. she blinks at him slightly and he pushes his magic towards her. he can visibly see trelawney calm down as she turns to the others. 

so the black dog does have something specifically to do with him, he had his suspicions of course but this confirms it. 

“harry, you aren’t seriously listening to that barmy old fool are you?” hermoine demands. 

“if you don’t like her maybe you should just drop divination.” he loosely holds the cup, staring at the dog formed out of tea leaves. he believes trelawney, she hasn’t said anything untrue so far, he knows he has the grim, a friendly one in fact. 

he’s more interested in how hermoine has already been to muggle studies and armithmancy, he can see the notes from the classes peaking out of her bag. 

it’s after lunch now and they still havent dropped it. seriously they’ve had lunch and transfiguration in between and it’s already getting old, the whole school has heard about it by the pitying looks he’s receiving. “don’t worry mate, i’ve heard she can’t tell prophesies to save her life!” ron points his finger at harry in the way he always does when he’s sure of himself. it makes harry want to slap some sense into his two friends because why would she be a teacher if she was useless. it’s like snape, he comes across useless to students but he has a potions mastery and is perfectly qualified to teach. 

they’re walking down to hagrids hut for their care of magical creatures lesson, harry can’t help but be excited. sure, he has a lethifold covering his shoulders right now but he’s going to meet creatures he’s only heard about in the mountains of books he received from greyback. 

“if you ask me divination is a woolly subject!” he doesn’t remember asking to be quite honest hermoine. her opinion on the matter is biased anyways, she’s a logical based person even if they have magic she refuses that they can see into the future. “now, ancient runes, that is a fascinating subject!” that, he can agree with. 

“exactly how many subjects are you taking hermoine?” he’s seen her timetable, he’s the one who shouted about it so harrys unsure why ron is asking. 

or why hermoine won’t tell her best friends the truth, “a fair few.” all of them is not ‘a fair few’, it’s not even fair at all. plenty of kids will have wanted to take more than two subjects but however hermoines going about it, she’s getting extra time, it’s completely unfair. 

“hang on, that’s impossible,”  _ and we’re magic _ , harry wants to add. “divination and ancient runes are on at the same time, you can’t be in two classes at once!” that’s one of the smartest things he’s ever heard ron say. 

“don’t be silly ron, how could anyone be in two classes at once.” please, do tell the rest of the class hermoine. “broaden your mind...” she mumbles to herself. if divination is that tasking why doesn’t she drop it, it’s getting annoying now and they’ve had one divination lesson. “use your inner eye to see the future..” thats a muggle thing too but go off. 

they reach hagrids hut and the man is standing there in all his glory. “gather around, less talking if you don’t mind, i have a real treat for you all today!” he’s way to soft to be teaching a bunch of vicious magical teenagers without a wand really. harry smiles nonetheless, he may hate dumbledore but hagrid hasn’t done anything directly against him. “alright, follow me!” he says and takes then deeper into the woods. harry obediently follows at the front of the line, ron and hermoine either side. 

“right you lot, less chattering and form a group over there!” he points to a clearing near a boulder. “oh and- open your books to page 49!” he walks away leaving them to deal with the books. 

he sighs as neville falls over, his monster book of monsters trying to attack him as slytherins laugh nearby. “don’t be pathetic longbottom!” there’s something in the way malfoy flinches at his own words that intrigue harry, it’s subtle, but there. 

he pushes his magic out and rolls his eyes as he crouched down near neville. the book comes running towards him and the students watch curiously at how he’ll deal with it. the book settles in his hand, closing its eyes and he knows from their startled noises they expected it to attack him. “stroke the spine nev, it subdues the book.” harry advises softly, handing the book back over. 

he sees malfoy following his advice from the corner of his eye, the boy smiling in victory when the book falls open placidly. harry smiles to himself, perhaps he can get through to malfoy after all. 

“i think they’re funny.” hermoine adds and harry has clearly missed some part of the conversation because he can’t figure out for the life of him what hermoine is talking about. 

“oh yeah, real funny... i can’t believe dumbledores got this oaf teaching classes.” it’s rude, but true. “god this place has gone to the dumps!” well, dumbledore is the headmaster. a group slowly forms leaving harry and his friends standing opposite malfoy with his cronies either side. harry really wanted to avoid confrontation today, he glares at the back of hermoines head for starting a fight. 

ron looks at him expectantly, harry sighs, he supposes hagrid is his friend. “shut up malfoy.” his tone is nonchalant because he truly doesn’t care, he steps forward into the little gap that’s been formed, trying desperately to cover up the space. they’re thirteen years old for christ sake, why are they fighting over stupid things like school teachers. 

his cronies whistle and malfoy drops his bag onto crabbes (maybe it’s goyle?) arm, sauntering forward to stop right in front of harry. he looks harry up and down, harry bristles slightly, is malfoy serious right now? 

suddenly they’ve been standing still too long, malfoy knows it to from the way he lurches back, gaze in the sky. he puts on a terribly fake scared look, “dementor, dementor!” everyone turns to look and harry physically rolls his eyes as he keeps his sight on malfoy. there’s no effects of dementors anywhere near them and harrys pretty sure it’s slightly too hot today himself —it’s hard to tell underneath nyx’s ventilating body. 

the slytherins cackle and harry stares at them blankly, they flinch away slightly, their laughter becoming nervous now. they pull their hoods up and mock the way a dementor moves. it surprises harry, how childish that is for a slytherin and he raises his eyebrow with a small smirk, tilting his head knowingly. 

“just stay away.” hermoine grabs him and pulls him away, he recoils slightly from her touch but nods nonetheless. 

“you were supposed to stroke it!” ron says with a fond smile and harry turns to find nevilles robes torn by the book. he sighs exasperatedly and promises to fix nevilles robes before they leave. it isn’t like ron knew how to open the book either so harry can’t be sure why he’s judging neville to make himself look better. 

hagrid coughs, catching their attention and harrys eyes literally light up as hagrid makes a celebratory noise. “isn’t he beautiful?”  _ yes _ . “say hello to buckbeak!”  _ hello _ . hagrid throws the majestic animal a fish. 

“hagrid... exactly what is that thing?” ron asks breathlessly, nervousness in his stance. 

that ‘thing’ is a magestic creature. his feathers ruffle as he shakes his wings out, his beak opening to let the fish slide down. “that ron is a—“

“hippogriff...” harry breathes out and hagrids eyes flicker to him as he stares at the creature in awe. the man stares at him for a moment, something like pride filling his eyes. 

“the first thing you want to know about a hippogriff is that they’re very proud creatures, very easily offended. you do not want to insult a hippogriff, it may just be the very last thing you do!” and isn’t that the most accurate thing harrys heard. he’s quite alarmed by the way hagrid still calls the hippogriff a ‘that’. 

“now, who’d like to come and say hello?” harry waits for someone to step forward, unwilling to take the opportunity away from someone. “well done harry!” he blinks and turns to find the whole class has moved backwards, he rolls his eyes at their cowardice; they are slytherins and gryffindors after all. “well done, come on now!” harry huffs as ron pushes him forward, he’s not scared, he’s in awe. there’s a difference yanno?

“now you have to let him make the first move, it’s only polite!” harry wants to say he knows this but hagrid looks so happy to be teaching he can’t help but let the half giant instruct him; he also isn’t about to make dumbledore suspicious on the first day. “step up, give him a nice bow and wait to see if he bows back...” hagrid gestures to the winged creature. 

harry blinks and walks forward slowly, lest he startle the creature and lose an eye. “if he bows, you can touch him; if not...well, we can get to that later!” he hears the class shuffle behind him, slowly regaining confidence. “make your bow...” he leans down into a bow, pushing his magic out towards buckbeak. 

the hippogriff squawks when his magic reaches him. “back off harry, back off!” harry steps back slightly and a twig snaps, he winces to himself. “keep still...” he’s warned and  _he knows that hagrid_.  slowly, as expected, buckbeak slowly bows too and harry can’t contain his childish excitement. “oh well done harry, well done!” hagrid praises him as if he thought harry wouldn’t be able to accomplish the feat. “well you can go and pat him now. go on, don’t be shy!” he says mistaking harrys wonder for fear. 

harry perks up and inhales sharply, walking silently towards the creature. he hears the slytherins barge to the front of the crowd, the people protesting are definitely gryffindors. 

“nice and slow...” he reaches his hand up to the creature, magic dancing on his fingers as he pulls on the hippogriffs tame aura. “not so fast harry!” buckbeak snaps his beak but harry can’t be afraid of such a gorgeous creature. he hears hermoine gasp behind him and giggles inwardly. “now let him come to you!” harry stops as the creature starts moving forward, sniffing his hand. 

he squeals quietly as buckbeak nuzzles his hand and presses his feathers into harrys palm. he hears everyone clapping behind him. “i think he may let you ride him now!” hagrid walks over to him and harry blanches. 

“hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! hagrid!” he protests as he’s manhandled onto buckbeaks back, this is both a violation of him and the poor hippogriff. he isn’t heavy but the hippogriff may not like being ridden at all. 

“don’t pull out any of his feathers, cause he won’t thank you for that!” as if harrys stupid enough to try that. hagrid hits buckbeaks rear and he bucks up, harrys forced to cling to the hippogriff, wrapping his arms around his neck as he squeezes his eyes shut. the hippogriff runs until they’re jumping off the cliffs edge and he hears the students running to chase them. buckbeak dives before he’s pulling up, flapping his wings and soaring into the air. 

the soar over the castle and harry chuckles as nyx becomes agitated and unravels from his shoulders, choosing instead to fly next to them. buckbeak is pleasantly unbothered by the lethifold. they reach the river and buckbeak dips his foot into the water, harry laughs at their reflection on the surface edge. 

letting go, he spreads his arms out, whooping loudly into the air. he relishes in the breeze and the way the spray of the water paints his skin damp. nyx wraps back around him as they hear a whistle and buckbeak goes back down, landing in front of hagrid. “well done harry and well done buckbeak!” hagrid congratulates as harry grins up at him, sliding from the hippogriffs back and ignoring the sound of loss the creature makes —hagrid gives him a funny look at that noise, staring down at him. 

“not dangerous at all are you, you great ugly brute!” and then the moment of peace vanishes once again. to be adlestrop or to be not adlestrop, that is thy question. hagrid exclaims lowly. buckbeak rears up and everyone screams, harry sees the exact moment malfoy knows what he’s done and raises his arm in protection. buckbeaks claws lash through his skin and he grunts. harry raises an eyebrow, anyone else would be screaming in pain by now. 

“buckbeak, away you silly creature!” hagrid scolds, throwing fish to the side to get buckbeak away. 

“oh it’s killed me, it’s killed me!” malfoy exclaims and harry snorts, wide eyed at the dramatics. 

“calm down, it’s just a scratch” hagrid protests nervously and harry rolls his eyes, gently nudging him aside to stand in front of malfoy himself. 

“hagrid, he has to be taken to the hospital wing!” hermoine exclaims, hesitation obvious in her words as she stares at malfoy in disgust. 

“i’m the teacher i’ll do it!” he says and bends down as if to pick malfoy up. 

“no hagrid,” harry says softly and hagrid rears up in surprise. “you’re right, you are the teacher, so you have to stay here and teach. i’ll take him to the hospital wing.” harry says and reaches out a hand to the thoroughly bewildered malfoy. 

“i guess you’re right...” hagrid mumbles, his eyes full of suspicion. 

malfoy takes harrys hand and he gently picks the blond up, wrapping his arm around the blonds waist to keep him steady. “carry on then.” harry says and manoeuvres them away from the class, out of sight to avoid malfoy embarrassing himself more. 

he feels malfoys eyes boring into the side of his head the whole way out of the forest until he finally breaks the silence. “why’re you helping me?” he asks quietly under his breath, the question is more to himself than harry. 

nonetheless, harry whips up a reply, “knowing hagrid, he’ll bash your head against the castle walls if he carried you and id rather avoid to hear you complaining about that on top of everything. you’d probably turn it into a personal attack when you get your father to try and fire hagrid!” harry snorts as he carefully avoids touching malfoys injured arm because it no doubt hurts after being clawed up, harry isn’t that heartless. 

“you aren’t trying to talk me out of it...” malfoy points out and harry knows he isn’t. 

“theres no point, why would my opinion matter any to you? besides hagrid will get away with it, dumbledores headmaster.” harry mumbles the last part bitterly, distaste evident in his tone. 

“normally you’d jump headfirst into saving your friends...” and damn if malfoy doesn’t know him well, or how he used to be anyways. 

“i’m tired of fighting and if this ends up with me in your good books for even a day i’ll be happy.” harry knows he looks as exhausted as he sounds. it must be obvious to malfoy too now that he’s pointed it out, an unfamiliar expression flashing through the blonds eyes. 

he pushes the door to the medical wing open with his foot and leads malfoy over to the bed he usually stays in out of habit. he doesn’t care that malfoys hurt in the slightest but he can’t let him have any more to use against hagrid. 

“harry, i knew you’d be here soon but the first day?” madam pomfrey tsks and harry giggles softly. 

“it’s not me that’s hurt ma’am, it’s malfoy.” he feels someone else’s magic in the room and suddenly his headache is a lot worse than before. 

“and what did you do then potter?” snape demands and harry rolls his eyes, sighing tiredly as he turns to face the professor. he feels probing against barriers and grits his teeth. 

“i didn’t do anything sir. if you even bothered asking what happened, malfoy insulted a hippogriff. i had nothing to do with it.” harry snarls, it’s the first day and he’s already so tired of being here. 

“so explain why you are here...” snape eyes him with the usual suspicion. harry rubs his 

temples as he glares at the ground. 

“potter actually uh.. helped me here...” malfoy speaks up to harrys amazement, he didn’t think the boy had it in him to get anywhere near to opposing his head of house. 

“is that so?” snape drawls. 

“yes. now if you’ll excuse me i’m going to find professor mcgonogall... or down a cup of coffee, whichever comes first.” he turns on his heel and leaves despite madam pomfrey calling him. he isn’t hurt, therefore he has no reason to be there and intrude on the mini snakes brooding. 

“harry!” he can’t get a break at this place honestly. at least when he’s at the dursley’s he’ll be left to his own devices unless absolute necessary.“why would you help malfoy, the git deserved it!” ron exclaims and harry turns to face them, grabbing nevilles arm before the boy can leave. 

“and give him more reasons to get hagrid fired? is that what you want ron? to get hagrid fired?” he asks with a betrayed look that even hermoine must believe as she turns on ron, glaring. 

“well... no- but he’s malfoy!” ron tries to get his point across but fails drastically because it’s not a point to begin with. 

“you’d choose malfoy suffering over hagrid keeping his job?” harry hisses lowly and hermoine scowls while neville shakes uncomfortably beside him. “well whatever pleases you i guess ron but i’d prefer hagrid not getting sacked. come here neville i want to fix your cloak...” harry says as he turns to the freckled boy. 

“oh harry you don’t have to do th-that!” he mumbles but his eyes are filled with gratitude. 

“nonsense, this is what friends do!  _ reparo _ ...” nevilles cloak stitched itself back together as harry wills his magic to make the cloak as good as new. his friends watch in fascination as the cloak loses all traces of ever being ripped. 

“thank you harry!” neville says tearing up slightly. 

“don’t thank me neville, i’m doing what any friend should do...” he mutters slightly as ron and hermoine blush, hyper aware that no one besides harry helped. “come on now we’ve got transfig homework to do!” harry tells them as he makes his way back to the common room. 

“you’re turning into hermoine!” ron accuses with hurt in his expression while hermoine looks proud. 

“i don’t want to have to do it later ron, our homework will start piling up and i’d rather get it done than go outside anywhere near the dementors.” hermoine loads the prideful look with something more pitying and ron turns his noise in distaste. 

_mr grey,_

_so i know it’s only the end of first day but like a bunch of stuff has already gone down._

_our train was hijacked by dementors and guess what? i domesticated the dementor too, ha! ...well until our new defense teacher ran into the corridor —cant have people suspicious so quickly can we? i’m pretty sure he’s a werewolf but i’m gonna look into it more before i come to my final verdict and conclusion._

_anyways lessons, first lesson was divination and i got my death predicted by ‘crazy old trelawney’, something about a grim? omen of death?_

_i rode a hippogriff in COMC and then malfoy (the baby one) got malled for insulting it._

_i was right by the way, mcgonogall is letting me self study runes and arithmancy._

_anywho, that’s all for now,_

_your favourite kid_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trelawney: my dear you have the grim!  
> Harry: lol fuck u hes friendly 
> 
> Malfoy: yes insulting this chicken is a tremendous idea even though the oaf explicitly told us not to  
> Harry: ha loser


	11. a dark cloud

the morning after the whole buckbeak disaster, harry isn’t surprised to not find malfoy at the slytherin table. if he knows the boy —and he does— he’ll drag this out for as long as possible. he sees slytherins glaring up at hagrid and feels slightly sorry for the man, it’s usually a shame he’s so oblivious but it feels like a blessing right now.

the morning owls swoop in and harry smiles at the flutter of wings entering the room. he’s more surprised than he probably should be when hedwig lands in front of him, a letter in her claws, her bracelet that stops tampering around her leg. it catches some of the teachers eyes too and harrys stomach lurches when dumbledores eyes land on him, trying to pry into his mind. harry quickly stands, leaving the room with hedwig trailing after him. 

he finds a quiet alcove out of sight and finally takes the letter from hedwig, chuckling at the way the parchment is slightly crumpled either from rush or stress, probably both. greyback might just be bored and wants something to do. harry can’t help but be surprised the man even replied —even though he promised to— it makes his heart warm ever so slightly with hope. 

_kid,_

_i swear to god it’s been just over a week since i last saw you and everything is falling apart. this is why you should just dropout and keep yourself away from all the danger. let me store you away in my cave._

_you DOMESTICATED A DEMENTOR. kid, you’re going to give me a heart attack, stay away from the evil bastards or i swear i’ll never take you to the market ever again._

_okay,_

_1\. what the hell is wrong with your teachers 2. don’t you dare befriend a dementor or a grim 3. why didn’t you just leave the little malfoy spawn to get eaten? i thought i taught you better than this honestly kid._

_glad everything worked out with your choices though and i don’t even want to know why the hell you were riding a hippogriff in lesson._

_don’t die i need your patronus,_

_mr grey_. 

harry is giggling loudly by the end. greyback is so predictable. besides he never really told greyback about the grim so he can’t reply with too late —no harm done in not knowing. 

the malfoy part was probably the most predictable part of it all, greyback would’ve left him to die, probably even rip him up to make it easier for buckbeak to eat and thats what makes them so different. 

he pockets the letter, he should go visit professor vector or professor babbling about his schedule. swiftly he makes his way out of the alcove and towards classroom 6A, professor babbling should be there, most teachers prefer to have breakfast in their offices incase students need anything —of course a few of them also stay to watch over the great hall. 

knocking gently he asks for permission to enter which professor babbling immediately grants. professor babbling is a pretty woman, straight black hair and rosy cheeks, she wear the stereotypical witch hat that all the female teachers wear. 

“mr potter dear! professor mcgonogall told me i’d be seeing you soon. so how about we get down to what you already know?” she asks softly, pulling a chair out for harry to sit down on. 

“well i know the elder and younger futhark alphabets and i’ve almost learnt the anglo-saxon futhorc. i’ve been reading over some of the books on runes from when i was at diagon and found them really interesting!” he says softly and babbling smiles brightly at him. 

“you’re already way ahead of the students i have in my third year class mr potter! i’m happy to let you carry on learning whatever you please by yourself. i will however set you a project you have to finish by the end of term and give you a list of books you can find more information on.” she tells him and harry nods, happy with the results. “i’d like you to see if you can get some of your magic into a rune stone for me, as simple as that!” she says and harry smiles. 

“if that’s all professor i’ll leave you to your breakfast now.” he says softly and she hands him a list of books before turning back to her tea, glasses perched on her nose to read the book laid out in front of her. 

the visit with professor vector goes practically the same and they both seemed pleased with the extent of his knowledge for now. she gave harry a few sheets of the basic forms of arithmancy to solve with some personality numbers at the very end, he has to give a list of people a dedicated number each. 

they’re both useful projects. the runes stones can be used to help greyback in his transformation and the arithmancy can give harry reason to get closer to others, find more about what they do even if the list mostly consists of teachers. 

“harry, a word if you please?” professor lupin catches him on his way to the library, it’s a saturday and harry is taking time away from the others to do some research. 

“how can i help you professor?” he hasn’t had defense against the dark arts yet, it’s supposed to be this thursday so he’s mildly confused about why lupin is after him; theres part of him that knows why lupins here but doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he really does hate confrontations. 

lupins eyes are soft and amber warm, flashing with longing that harry can’t place what for. the man definitely knows who he is for some reason, perhaps it’s that niggling feeling of familiarity around the man he senses as well. 

“first lesson we’re dealing with fears, i wanted to talk to you first incase voldemort or a dementor comes up...” the professor talks slowly as if harry’s about to bolt at the mention of his number one megalomaniac. dealing with fears, his fears popping up, as in physical appearances; it’s a boggart. 

“that’s really thoughtful professor, the thing is though i doubt my boggart will be either of those. the dementors don’t really scare me and well, i’m sort of accustomed to voldemort now.” he’ll admit, he likes the professor for daring to use voldemort’s name instead of the silly ‘you-know-who’ title. the professor looks at him, surprise flashing through his golden eyes. 

“i didn’t say it was a boggart did i?” he asks, his voice higher than usual as if he’s panicking about forgetting something he mentioned but doesn’t remember doing so. it seems he has experience with past memory lapses: obliviation. 

“no but you said my fears would come up and the only reasonable explanation i could come up with was a boggart...”  _but you just confirmed it for me_ , went unsaid. the professor smiles gently as he relaxes, harry can feel the other non-wizard-most-likely-wolf half pushing angrily at the solid split between them and frowns subtly. greyback did say rejecting ones wolf is a dangerous thing to do and professor lupin does have a lot of claw like scars. 

“is there anything else professor?” harry is really close to finishing this spell he started and the library is the perfect place to hide away with his pocket library, amongst the books. 

“your patronus,” the professor blurts suddenly, cringing in regret as soon as he’s done. “it’s very impressive, dragons are quite rare...” he tells harry as if the boy hasn’t spent all summer scouring books about the creatures and the patronus charm itself. 

“yeah ap— it was a surprise to me to!” he stumbles over his words before he accidentally brings up the name of his dragon. “i’ve looked it up though, i find dragons interesting. i was shocked they were even real, i thought they were just fairytales!” he smiles softly at the memories of his younger years, before hogwarts when he would escape to the local library and the lovely librarian used to slide books to him —it wasn’t subtle at all and harry could always see the man trying to be as subtle as possible. the librarian had a reputation in the town for being a tough, stern man but harry knew he was a giant teddy bear at heart. mr jones was his name, he’s one of the reasons harry can never bring himself to fully hate muggles after what they’ve done to him. 

“you didn’t know they were real?” lupin asks with furrowed brows. 

“should i of?” harry wonders just how much the teachers know of his upbringing, the flying car they arrived in last year should’ve been an indication of something wrong. 

“it’s just dumbledore... nevermind.” lupin shakes his head and harry stares into his eyes, searching for any compulsions before he can stop himself. 

“it’s alright, you can tell me professor. i won’t tell anyone, promise!” he smiles innocently, crossing his fingers and tilting his head. 

professor lupins looks at him with fondness and shakes his head with a sigh, not of annoyance though. “i just thought that you’d have learnt about it from your guardians, professor dumbledore told us you were safe and well...”  _ did he now _ _?_ that  _ is _ news to harry. harry loses his smile slightly, looking away to hide the fury that bubbles up —it looks as though he’s embarrassed to professor lupin however. 

“i didn’t know anything about magic until my eleventh birthday, now if you’ll excuse me professor i need to visit the library...” harry mumbles and turns away before he can see the surprise in the professors eyes. it still hurts so badly to know he was betrayed by the man he considered his hero. 

he shakes himself from his thoughts and bunkers down on an empty table, pulling out his french book to test his grammar again. no matter how much he’s grown over the summer, he still hates talking about the dursley’s. now he has one main thing to worry about:  _ what the hell is his boggart going to turn into ? _

the days fly by and suddenly the dreaded day of the first defense lesson is upon them. 

“harry, seriously why’re you so worked up today?” hermoine scoldshim —he’s not sure why she’s scolding him for being worked up— from across the breakfast table. 

“well excuse me for not wanting to go to defense. it isn’t like they don’t try to kill me every year!” he snaps sarcastically at her and neville laughs beside him, only stopping when hermoine shoots him a glare that makes him turn away. 

“professor lupin is nice though harry, he gave you chocolate after the dementors!” hermoine points out and harry  _ knows _ . 

“yeah and gilderoy lockhart was a favourite of witch weekly, looks can be deceiving hermoine.” he replies, standing up with the others to head down to double potions. 

they arrive with little to no trouble —the little trouble being that hermoine won’t stop lecturing about some nonsense that makes harry want to rip out her tongue— surprisingly early for once. the doors open in their usual eerie way and harry settles down in his seat. they haven’t had potions so far and it’s starting to grate on harrys nerves with how slow the days are passing. 

snape walks in with his cloak billowing behind him in his trademark way and harry almost snorts when he remembers the shock on his face when harry did the same thing while his greyback glamour was on. ron looks at him funny but harry keeps his expression neutral, letting the mirth show in his eyes when snape catches them. 

snape narrows his eyes suspiciously at the knowing look and harry shrugs innocently, looking back to his book before he gets himself berated before the lesson even begins. “this year you will be working with the person next to you, i will change those partners if any trouble arises.” snape drawls eyeing neville and seamus disdainfully. 

harry thinks quickly, his mind swirling into action and he’s speaking before he can stop himself. “i’m surprised snapple didn’t use this opportunity to partner me with one of the slimy snakes!” harry stage whispers just loud enough that’ll reach the professors ears. he’s facing ron and knows the exact point when snape is walking over, ron paling drastically is always a dead giveaway. 

“i see there’s already a problem with this partnership!” he sneers and harry blinks up at him from behind his eyelashes, watching emotions flicker through his teachers eyes. 

“no sir!” he mocks and ron steps on his foot. “what was that for?” he says incredulously, he knows what he’s doing and snapes face says it’s working. 

“this is more hazardous than i thought. seeing as weasley cannot keep his limbs to himself you will be partnering with ms davis, mr potter. five points from gryffindor for interrupting the lesson weasley!” snape drawls and harry grins subtly in victory, picking his bag up —he realises he was going through with this plan that he formed in summer from the way he hadn’t even pulled out his equipment— and practically feels like skipping over to the slytherin side of the room. 

“thanks professor.” he whispers so only snape can hear, relishing in the shock that momentarily passes over the mans face, breaking his mask. he drops happily into the seat next to tracey davis and grins lopsidedly at her. he snickers softly under his breath as the class watches him before schooling his expression to feign irritation, glaring hatefully at snape. 

the lesson goes on and harry must admit, malfoy made a spectacular entrance midway through the lesson, it was like he was featuring in a shampoo commercial —his hair looked a lot better without the strenuous amounts of gel harry had seen him use over the past two years. 

“mr malfoy, i see you’ve returned to lessons,” snape drawls, eyeing the sling holding the blonds arm. “go work with potter and davis, they’ll help you do your work.” malfoy looks over at them, practically gaping. 

“hey i didn’t ask to be here!”  _ i just coerced my way here _ . harry defends if only to get rid of the angry glare rons giving him. malfoy nods and walks over, settling between them. harry almost loses composure at the look of disgust davis gives the blond and coughs to hide his amusement. 

“potter pass the—“ harrys placing the ingredient into davis’ hand before she can finish the sentence, absentmindedly. he’s only brewed with greyback before; he’s only been able to brew with grey successfully. but right now with a couple of thirteen year olds, it’s scarily frustrating that they’re moving so slowly through the steps, rereading each part to be extra careful; if there’s an accident, there’s an accident and they can fix it. 

he has to physically restrain himself from snatching the cauldron to complete the potion himself, his hands shaking in tension to move. his nerves are already wired high as it is and being this close to malfoy isn’t calming him down any more than it would being close to a dementor. he doubts being close to anyone is going to be helpful right now —surprisingly to him— especially his best friends. sure they’re his best friends but they both have positive points that barely outweigh the negative. 

“potter, fifteen points from gryffindor for leaving your partners to do the work!” snape barks as harry’s clearing up and davis is taking the bottled up potion to the sour man. 

“yes, sir.” he says before davis can protest. malfoy looks at him suspiciously and davis looks astonished. he shrugs with a grin and makes his way out of the classroom. 

he couldn’t eat at lunch, he knows he won’t be able to keep anything down with his mind going haywire trying to figure out his boggart form. he  _ knows _ it won’t be voldemort or a dementor and he’s begging to mother magic that it’s not something incriminating —he really cannot deal with getting into trouble when he hasn’t gotten detention from even the likes of snape yet, that’s like, a whole record for him. 

professor lupin has taken them into the staff room for the lesson, ignoring the sneers snape throws his way as he storms out. they stand, as a class, united in front of what looks like it could’ve once been a wardrobe. the mirror is cracked and the wooden legs barely stay upright from each jolt the boggart makes to get out. 

“intriguing, isn’t it?” professor lupin starts, circling them —not predatorily however; more protective in trade. “now would anyone like to guess what is inside?” lupin looks him straight in the eyes and harry can’t help but smirk slightly, looking away innocently from the awaiting eyes. 

“that’s a boggart, that is!” dean answers, his dark skin quite pale in contrast to his usual chocolate tones. harry can’t help but feel relived —it makes him feel sick and twisted in a way— that he’s not the only one anxious. 

“very good mr thomas!” lupin exclaims, his eyes tracking harrys movements, the brunet still avoiding his seeking looks. “now would anyone like to tell me what a boggart looks like?” he continues trying to obtain eye contact with harry but the latter keeps his eyes firmly planted on the ground. 

“nobody knows,” hermoine pipes up from beside him and harry catches a glint of light as she tucks something into her robes,  _ how peculiar indeed _ . 

“when the bloody hell did she get here?” ron scoffs out, bewildered at the girls ability to seemingly teleport. it’s not a reasonable explanation sure, just something harry will have to look into. 

“boggarts don’t have a form, they’re shapeshifters. they take the form of whatever someone fears the most. that’s what makes them so—“

“—so terrifying, yes indeed.” professor lupin cuts her off and harry finds himself liking the man more just for that alone. the other professors normally let her lecture out of curtesy and it really is starting to come across like a lullaby technique at this point. “luckily a simple charm exists to repel these foul beasts —without wands please!” harry already knows the charms, he’d been scouring through books on the foul things, he’d grown a hate for them almost as strong as his loathing for dementors. 

“now repeat after me...  _ riddikulus _ _!_ ” he pronounces clearly. 

“ _ riddikulus _ _!_ ” the class chant in unison. 

“very good, a little louder this time!” they do as they’re told and professor lupin nods to himself, seemingly satisfied. 

the class has gone quiet with the exception of a few mumbles, “this class is ridiculous...” harrys eyes widen with mirth as he hears malfoy’s quip from somewhere behind him. 

“you see the incantation alone is not enough, no. what really finishes a boggart is... laughter. you need to force it into a shape you find truly amusing. ah let’s see... neville! will you join me for a demonstration?” harry thinks that’s the most roundabout way anyone could’ve explained boggarts, truly wondrous. neville steps forward and harry sees the boy shaking too. 

harry gives him an encouraging smiles as he passes, brushing his hand in a gesture of comfort as the boy passes. “neville what scares you the most?” neville mumbles something unintelligible quietly and harry frowns to himself. “come on a little louder now!” neville ducks his head even further —thats somehow possible?— and harry sees the telltale signs of embarrassment on the boy, a flush slowly sliding up his neck. 

“professor snape...” ah, dear. that does make sense, harry supposes. snapes never been anything but absolutely cruel to neville and harry wonders why the man won’t just get him a tutor if he hates ‘incompetent dunderheads’ so much. 

“yes, professor snape...” the man mumbles to himself as the class laughs. there’s something in his eyes akin to laughter and harrys not sure who he’s laughing at; neville or snape. “and i believe you live with your grandmother?” that, that right there is interesting. it means he knows neville too, perhaps he knew the boys parents, perhaps he knows harrys parents?

“yes but i don’t want that boggart turning into her either!” neville stands stiffly and harry can’t help but feel pity for the boy, to be scared of ones own relatives is never a joy. 

“i want you to imagine her clothes very clearly in your mind. only her clothes...” harry could laugh at the innuendos he supposes but he can’t laugh when his friend is stood as stiff as a board in front of the class. “as long as you see it, we’ll see it. now when i open the door here’s what i want you to do...” he walks closer to neville to whisper to the boy, harry catches every word from his close proximity in attempt to comfort his friend, “ _imagine professor snape in your grandmothers clothes_ .... can you do that?”. 

he doesn’t wait for a response, “wand at the ready! one... two... three...” the professor swishes his wand and the cupboard door creaks open. unsurprisingly, professor snape steps out, strutting slowly towards neville with his trademark scowl. “think neville, think...”  _come on neville_ , harry thinks, pushing his magic forwards to support the boy. 

“ _riddikulus!_ ” snapes clothes change and he stumbles back in an uncharacteristically cartoonish way. his usual black robes become a moldy green, a maroon ostrich hat sitting on his head being joined by a flashy red handbag; all-in-all, nevilles grandmother has terrible fashion sense. 

“wonderful neville!” professor lupin shouts over everyone’s laughter. “alright, everybody form a line, neville to the back!” he instructs and the students hurry to get into the line. harry tries to get nearer to the back but hermoine grips his wrist and pulls him into the line, just in front of her. he cringes at the nails digging into his wrist. 

“alright i want everyone to picture the thing they fear the most and turn it into something-  _funny_ !” he states as he walks towards the side of the room, gently turning on an old gramophone and letting music fill the air. “next, ron!” he commands and harry startles slightly, amused with how his friend ended up at the front of the line. “concentrate, face your fear, be  _brave_ !” oh, this man was definitely a gryffindor, harry muses to himself. 

and then, harry loses focus of what’s happening, picking up the basic details of what’s happening. rons spider gains rollerscates, a bee becomes a ballerina, and so on so forth. the line moves quickly —at least in harrys eyes— then hes next in line, watching as a small girl turns a snake into a clown, that’s still quite frightening in harry’s opinion. 

harrys breathing falters quietly and he nods at the professor as he steps forward, watching the clown sway over him intimidatingly. his hands slowly become clammy and he grips his wand so tight his knuckles turn white. 

ever so slowly, the clown shifts, warping into a small figure. his breath hitches slightly, recognising the boy for who he is and by the look in the professor’s eyes he does too. 

1986, this is him in 1986 when he was six years old. 

he moves forward slightly, his wand lowering automatically. professor lupin doesn’t move to stop him either, he should be watching harry move but his eyes are stuck on the form of the little boy. 

the boy — _him_ —  is small, smaller than normal six years olds are supposed to be, but that’s what abuse does to someone. the boy is covered in cuts and bruises and harry sees the chemical burns on his hands that aunt petunia was eventually made to fix when he was eight. 

the boy doesn’t have glasses yet, obvious in the way he’s not squinting like he would be without his glasses —not that he needs them anymore. 

the boys magic starts to dance across his skin and harry steps back quickly. 

the magic isn’t his, it’s black and smoky and it’s starts to envelope the boys tear stained face. harry winces as the boys eyes roll back into his head, only the whites showing. 

he wants to reach out, to warn the boy of what’s going to happen but he’s too late. the boys mouth opens in a scream and the black substance flies from his inside. 

the cloud shifts and this time there’s no albus dumbledore to cynically bind his magic. there’s nothing stopping the obscurial now. 

harry shakes himself from his thoughts, focusing on the confused whispering behind him. 

“ _riddikulus!_ ” harrys hisses the spell out like it physically burns him and watches the boy bursts into a stream of confetti, the students behind him laughing slightly. “can i be excused professor?” he asks weakly to the man who’s staring at him with furrowed brows. the professor nods and harrys turning on his heel, leaving the room before anyone can notice he’s gone besides lupin. 

“ _oh god, oh god_... ” he whispers frantically as he sprints into the nearest bathroom. he leans against the wall of the stall, locking the door so that he’s hidden from anyone’s sight. 

he’s  _dangerous_ . he wonders not for the first time if removing that magic block was the wisest thing to do to him. 

in his eyes the obscurus makes him less human, a shell of what he should be. he’s glad it’s not around anymore but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. 

what if the obscurus was still around? what if it had attacked greyback? he could’ve killed the werewolf,  _oh merlin_ . 

he’s a monster, oh merlin, he’s a monster. the mantra thrums through his head like an organ at a funeral. loud, creepy and inappropriate. 

he slides down the wall, shoving his head in between his knees as tears drip from his eyes, water-falling down his face rapidly as he chokes on the salty liquid leaving his tear ducts. he bites his lip to silence his sobs, his chest hitching as he struggles to breathe properly. shoving his hands into his hair, he tugs and tugs, relishing in the sharp pains that run through his body. he digs his nails into his scalp, trying to force the stupid sounds back into his body. he’s not supposed to cry over silly things like this, he hasn’t cried in years. he’s a  _monster_ , a  _ freak _ ; freaks don’t cry. 

“i’m so sorry mr grey...” he whimpers, his glasses clattering to the floor. his knees adorn damp patches from his tears as he slams his head back into the wall, viciously pushing the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop anymore tears from falling. 

he repeatedly thumps his head back into the wall to forget today ever happened. he feels the excessive amount of pain, anxiety and misery slowly trail away from his body, leaving him with a numb, dull feeling. he sighs exhaustedly, his voice hoarse and shuddering from sobs. 

greyback says he’s not dangerous; he’s not. he’s hazardous and disgusting. a monster among mankind. he doesn’t belong here, he’s a monster...

he inhales sharply, angry with himself for falling apart like this. he may be a monster; but he’ll do his damned best to use it and protect the ones he loves. he’s powerful as well and this only goes to show he’ll just have to learn to control it, he cannot lose control of something like this —even if the obscurus doesn’t exist anymore his magic can still lash out.

he can’t help but wonder if the boggart actually made any noise or if it was his twisted imagination adding a scream to the scene. nobody who went before him had a boggart that made noise—neville’s boggart, professor snape definitely didn’t say anything or make any noise, harry would remember if he did. 

but he knows one thing: he won’t let himself harm greyback. not now, not ever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: hey snapple   
> Snape: what   
> Harry: lol   
> Snape: 10000 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!!?!?!?!


	12. smokey red

harry lazily prods at his food with his fork, the great hall is filled with chattering students but it all sounds like dull buzzing to him. he hadn’t been the same since the defense lesson; he’s good at pretending though, no one else has noticed.

since the boggart incident he’s been very off kilter. his brain has been a scrambled mess as he struggles to piece it all back together. 

hermoine berated him for hours when he got back, telling him how irresponsible he was being and how he acted inappropriately. she questioned and pried but he wouldn’t tell her anything. he nodded along, not listening to a word she said. neville had soundlessly handed him his bag, smiling softly in comfort. 

professor lupin, the probably-werewolf, is the best teacher they’ve ever had. with the way the older years talk, they agree as well. he has a partnered potions assignment to work on with davis so he can check out teacher laws while he’s there cant he?

he stands up, interrupting the conversation between ron and hermoine. “where are you going?” she demands as if she deserves it know. 

see, hermoine turned fourteen the other day and she seems to think she has some sort of authority over them now but harry really isn’t having that. no one has control over him, maybe they once did —you can’t exactly not be under control of the person who places compulsions, blocks and leeches on you— but never again. he’d given her a lovely book for her birthday that he’d already finished and she loved it of course but that didn’t stop her from lecturing him —he obviously put up with it because it was her birthday— and ranting about what’s inside even if she doesn’t know yet. honestly, he doesn’t even feel that bad that he left early in the celebrations to hide in the library. 

“library.” he states shortly, gazing at her with a blank look. he’s tired of being scolded for nothing by now, it’s getting tiring to put up with. 

“oh we’ll come—“ she starts, her eyes lighting up. he knows exactly what she’s thinking, her being a good example is persuading him to study —and no, that’s definitely not it. she’s not a good example of a student no matter what she thinks, she reads compulsively and obsessively over trivial things that will never be useful. mr grey on the other hand, can take all the credit for harry’s study habits. 

“don’t bother.” he cuts her off and her eyes widen in surprise, so surprised she doesn’t even continue her sentence, trailing off in confusion. “i’m going to get davis and work on our potions assignment.” waving a hand dismissively —purposely ignoring her furrowed brows and frustrated glare— he makes his way to the other side of the great hall. 

he catches davis’ eyes before he fully reaches the slytherin table and she raises an eyebrow. some of the slytherins turn his way and he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest as he comes to a stop behind the people opposite her. “what do you want potter?” malfoy hisses and damn, he’d lasted this long without trouble from the blond after the buckbeak incident. he knows how one makes themselves in the slytherin hierarchy; the reason for malfoys acting out. 

“i’d like to borrow davis so we can do our assignment, if you don’t mind!” he says, plastering on a plastic smile that would rival petunias as he feigns politeness, voice taut. 

“i’m surprised you aren’t making her do it all herself like the gryffindor you are.” greengrass sneers and harry turns to fix his eyes on her, the emerald irises flashing dangerously with agitation. she flinches back under his glare as he stares, waiting for her to speak again. 

she doesn’t speak up again so harry fixes an exaggerated sympathetic look on his face, “it really is a shame you think so lowly of me, i’m not a bastard. it wouldn’t add to my reputation to skive off work either, gryffindor or not.” he sighs. rolling his eyes, his face falls blank again and he gives a bland look to davis. “you coming or not?” he asks and she nods, her lips quirking slightly in amusement as the slytherins gape at the interaction. harry nods,  _good_ , thats one less thing to deal with and now he’ll have a distraction from himself. 

he starts walking and hears her jogging to catch up slightly. “your little golden girls aren’t looking too happy.” she points out as she looks over her shoulder in the direction of the gryffindor table. harry shrugs, unbothered; they aren’t his responsibility, if they don’t grow up soon then they’ll be the ones getting the backlash. 

“ _ golden girls _ — they’ll get over it.” he snorts slightly at the name. he’d heard many call them the golden trio —what goes through those peoples heads, he hasn’t a clue. then again their dark lord used an anagram of his name, not all that evil in retrospect— and he can’t help but laugh at the nickname. he waves a hand dismissively as they wander towards the library. 

settling at a spare table, he watches from the corner of his eye as david hesitantly sits opposite him. he pulls out his potions books and places them out, opening them to useful pages. she blinks slightly at him, he seems to be making a strange impression on her. 

they’ve been in the library for half an hour now and harry senses that davis has relaxed around him, her shoulders slump slightly — _ what an absurd thing to do, letting down your guard, especially as a slytherin _ . he smirks slightly to himself, shifting into an unthreatening stance. 

“hey davis, what’s the laws about creatures teaching at hogwarts?” he asks with furrowed brows. she raises her head, expression matching his own. 

harry pushes his magic out to secure a silencing barrier around them and to comfort the girl into letting more accidentally slip out. “what do you want to know about that for?” she asks with a tight expression. 

“i’ve just been wondering, if professor snape is a vampire —personally, i don’t believe that for a minute— then would he be allowed to teach here?” harry asks haughtily, an air of ignorance that makes him internally cringe surrounding him. 

“well i mean, i’m sure he’d still teach here. i think they have books on creature and teaching laws here...” she says, watching him through narrowed eyes. 

shrugging outwardly and getting back to work, he mentally stores away that information for when davis is gone. 

davis leaves soon after that, leaving harry to his own devices. with a bit of bribery, he’s leaving the library with a stack of books based around creature laws hidden in his expandable bag. 

harry lethargically drags his feet along the floor on his way back to gryffindor tower, having just left the quidditch meeting of the month. he’s been so busy lately and every part of him aches for sleep. 

a pair of loud voices break him out of his slump and his lifts his head with furrowed eyebrows. they’re both insulting someone, not each other because they’re firing off the others words. then harry hears it, the soft, muffled sniffles, quieter than the voices. 

he peaks around the corner and physically snarls at the scene. two fourth year gryffindors he doesn’t know the name of are ganging up on a first year slytherin, the younger greengrass if he remembers. he can’t believe that people would stoop so low as to bully in a school like hogwarts. he sure as hell isnt going to stand back and watch her get hurt, slytherin or not. 

he summons apollo and sends him forward, pushing his magic to make his patronus appear as menacing as possible. blinking slightly he watches in awe as the usually silvery form of apollo turns a smokey red and barrels down the corridor towards the gryffindors. 

the gryffindor boys scream and run when they see the dragon approaching. the small slytherin girl pushes herself against the wall, fear of the dragon on her face. apollo slowly changes back to normal and she stares at him in confusion slightly. 

harry takes this as queue and walks swiftly down the hall, heading straight for the pair. he makes sure he looks as unthreatening as he can, raising his hands to show he means to harm. she isn’t looking at him and he can tell, she’s staring horrified at the red of his cloak. 

“hi there,” he says softly as he crouches in front of her slowly. she blinks up at him, her blue eyes wide and befuddled. “are you okay?” he looks over her face and find no visual harm. then he looks down and winces at the sight of her ankle. 

“potter? here to insult my weakness?” the small girls voice trembles as she tries to sound intimidating, tries to keep up her slytherin mask. she looks so utterly fragile it hurts harry to be here. 

“no, i came to help you. no one should be treated like that and those gryffindors will get their karma in due time.” he says passionately. she stares up at him, her gaze calculating as she tries to fault his words. he sighs, holding his hand out to her. 

she raises an eyebrow and gingerly places her hand in his palm. he closes his other hand over it and pushes his magic forwards. she gasps at the electric feeling that jolts through them, harrys magic filling their hands. he pulls away and she stares at the white lily he left behind in wonder. she rolls it in her palm gently, a small smile on her lips. he reaches out and plucks up the flower softly, ignoring her frown and places it behind her ear. her eyes widen in surprise and he grins lopsidedly at her. she reminds him a lot of aurora...

“do you want to go to the hospital wing?” he questions gently, staring at her swollen ankle in resigned fury. she shakes her head frantically, struggling to get up again. “hey, hey stop moving, you’ll only make it worse!” he scolds and she stills abruptly. “i’ll fix it for you okay?” she nods hesitantly and he leans down, letting her wrap her arms around his neck as he lifts her bridal style. 

“where are we going?” she asks as she leans against his chest, apollo lighting their way. 

he hums, “to the kitchens i suppose.” a hufflepuff had shown him earlier in the year. he hadn’t told any of the others about its whereabouts, preferring to use it as a quiet place with no interruptions or possible causes of headaches. “what’s your first name anyways greengrass?” he asks her as turns down the stairs. 

“astoria...” she mumbles into his neck and he smiles slightly at his accomplishment. their names are similar as well, aurora and hers. 

“well nice to meet you astoria. i’m harry!” he doesn’t want to be the chosen one right now, not when he has a vulnerable child in his arms who could overestimate him. he feels her perk up slightly at his words and he knows he’s done the right thing. 

they eventually reach the painting of the pear that hides the kitchens. he tells astoria to tickle the pear as he has no free hands and she does, albeit doubtful. she sniffs slightly with furrowed brows in only the way a pureblood can perfect and he chuckles, knowing shes likely thinking about how ridiculous it is. 

he places her in an armchair gently as a house elf swiftly makes their way towards them. “what can miffys be getting harry potter and his friend?” the small elf asks, wide eyes lighting up at the sight of harry. 

“hello miffy, a hot chocolate for the little one and an ice tea for me please?” he hates when people order the elves around when they’ll willingly listen. the elves eyes widen slightly teary as she nods and scurries back into the kitchen depths. he turns to see astoria gazing at him with calculation in her eyes as if he’s an impossible puzzle. 

“how’re you going to fix my ankle?” she mumbles softly, staring at her ankle. 

“...i’m going to show you something no one else knows about and i trust you not to tell anyone. can you do that?” he asks after a moments contemplation. she nods hesitantly and he sees the truth in her eyes as well as in her aura. “my cloak isn’t a cloak.” he says bluntly and she stares at him as if he’s crazy. 

nyx moves when the fact is revealed and astoria gasps, clinging to harrys arm tightly. “that’s a dementor!” she squeals as he’s tugged closer by her surprisingly tight grip —he might just be light though. 

“it’s not a dementor, it’s a lethifold. nyx is harmless unless threatened, i swear so on my magic. i’ve had her since the middle of summer...” he quickly consoles the blonde girl who’s burying her face in his arms. he chuckles slightly and gently rubs her back to calm her down, pushing more magic out to warm them up in the cold of the kitchen. he hadn’t realised how cold it was with nyx on but now that she’s off it’s unbearably cold and astoria is shaking slightly —he’s quite concerned that she didn’t mention it. 

the girl slowly lifts her eyes and nyx bobs happily at meeting a new person, she too had been missing greyback. she raises a shaking arm slowly and jumps when nyx presses herself against the small, dainty hand. she giggles slightly and harry smiles to himself at the girls bubbly nature showing through her slytherin mask. 

“nyx darling can you go get my first aid kit, the magical one.” nyx nods —well, bobs but you get the idea— and flies out of the kitchen, through the wall. 

“how’d you find a lethifold? i thought they weren’t even real?” astoria breathes out breathless in wonder. 

“i didn’t find her, she found me when i was in the forest. i didn’t know what she was until a friend told me, he’s the only other person who knows i have nyx.” harry adds the last bit and watches as the slytherins eyes light up, they always do adore being a priority. the lady from the store doesn’t know what nyx is specifically so she doesn’t count. 

“not even your little lions know?” she asks with a quirk of her lips, her eyes glinting in amusement. 

“they’d just tell dumbledore.” he shrugs slightly, moving to sit beside her in the chair next to hers, both of them in front of a fireplace. 

“mister harrys and little miss’ drinks be ready!” miffy wanders back over to them, sliding a tray onto the coffee table between them both. their drinks are both there but miffy also presented a plate of biscuits. harry smiles softly at the elf. 

“thank you miffy!” he placates sincerely. she nods —harry had no idea house elves could blush but you learn something new everyday— and shuffles away after astoria gives her a nods with a friendly smile, agreeing with harrys thanks. 

astoria stares at him in a moment of silence, “why’re you so nice to them?” she asks without missing a beat. harry expected the question to come up but he’s pleased when he finds no hint of insolence in her tone just pure curiosity. 

“i know how they feel.” he whispers softly, afraid to divulge too much. she blinks slightly, startled at his admittance it seems. 

nyx thankfully stops her from replying as she flies back in, bulkier than before with the first aid kit wrapped inside her. she drops the kit onto harrys lap and settles in front of the fire, curling up in an oddly snake-like way. 

he opens the bag, pulling out the anti-swelling balm and the soothing cream that should ease the swelling. he passes her a pain reliever which she eagerly drinks, relaxing slightly. it pains harry to see others holding back how much it really hurts the same way he’s always done. 

he gently covers her ankle in both creams, watching the swelling go down joyfully. with nimble fingers he fixes a bandage slowly around her ankle when the swelling is gone. she smiles at him when they make eye contact. 

they sit there for a while until harry sees astorias eyes slowly start to close. he smiles softly and picks her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist like a koala. he carries her down into the dungeons and lets nyx take the girl to her dorms after opening the entrance with parseltongue. 

after that night he’s not surprised to find her wearing the everlasting flower every day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apollo: *turns red*  
> Harry: oops
> 
> Harry: hello small child do you like food  
> Astoria: ...yes


	13. connection made

the first hogsmeade trip arrives and harry can’t help the bittersweet feeling that settles inside him. on the one hand, he can take this time to do things by himself; on the other hand, his friends are all going to hogsmeade without him. he knows he sounds petty but it hurts because they haven’t even bothered to ask about staying with him, if they do it certainly won’t be out of anything but pity.

he wakes up heavily that morning, the tiniest things grating on his nerves. his hair keeps falling in his eyes, his glasses are digging into his nose or his skin feels too tight. he can’t help but wish he had someone he could confide in about these things. 

his heart aches to be at the market with greyback, skimming through books and picking up little trinkets. greyback always got him little cakes while they were there, it’s strange but he does rather like turkish delight —specifically the strawberry ones. he wishes he was sat in the corner of the muggle cafe, nursing an ice tea as greyback recounts his battles. there’s no point in hoping for something that won’t come though. 

he doesn’t need his uniform on today and ends up in simple dark grey trousers and an oversized dark blue sweater, the sleeves swallowing his skinny arms whole. he shoves on some converse and jams his glasses on, making his way down to breakfast with neville. 

he wraps his arms around himself tightly, nyx —now free of gryffindor charms— draped on his shoulders as he drags his way to the great hall. he rolls his eyes when all eyes turn his way and gently sits down next to fred who lets him lean on his shoulder, his rosy red aura huddling around harry happily. 

“alright there harrikins?” george says from the other side of him. he blinks realising they’ve made room between them for him, he catches the way their bodies shield him from everyone and is tiredly grateful instead of being annoyed at the overcrowding as he usually would be. 

he nods blankly, staring at his plate. “what did the poor plate do to you?” fred teases, running a hand through harrys wavy hair. harry sighs in content, leaning into the hand much to their amusement. 

“harry where have you been! we wanted to eat with you before we left!” hermoine huffs as she sits down opposite him. 

harry can’t bring himself to care about what she says, turning into freds side even more as his stomach turns with the ridiculous emotion that is longing. fred’s grip tightens and harry wonders how he’s never realised the twins are observers just like himself. 

he looks over to the slytherin table and smiles softly when he catches astorias eye, the flower pushed into her braid even after a week. she gives him a small smirk, her lips tilting slightly before she turns to not bring attention to either of them. fred follows harrys line of sight but doesn’t mention anything for now. 

“you didn’t need to bother finding me mione.” he waves his hand dismissively, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. 

“well you aren’t coming with us today so we wanted to see you before we left!” she protests as ron lazily slumps over his food in the seat beside her, practically inhaling his plate. harry wrinkles his nose slightly and the twins snicker at his expression. 

“no need to rub it in,” he hisses harshly and she flinches slightly at his tone. “besides, you would’ve seen me tonight anyways.” he shrugs off her disapproving glare. he has nothing to prove to her. 

“harry, i’m sorry you can’t come. there’s no reason to take it out on us!” she chastises him and harry sighs to himself, burying his head in fred’s jumper as the boys grip tightens further. 

eventually he’s watching through the clock tower as they slowly trickle out of the gates, filch making sure they have their slips signed is a sight harry can’t believe he’s missed before. 

the hands of the clock tick slowly, jolting as each minute ticks by. harry sighs, settling down on the floor and crossing his legs underneath himself. he leans against the wall beside him and closes his eyes. 

he wishes not for the first time he’d gotten vernon to sign his slip, even if it meant acting like a good civilian around horrible marge dursley. he doesn’t think petunia even likes her, the glares his aunt sends the woman are almost as withering as the ones he receives from snape. he wonders why she even lets marge in the house let alone ripper. she’s terrified of the dog and hates the way it drools all over her pristine furniture. 

harry wonders what went so wrong on his aunts life that she lowered her standards to the scum of vernon dursley. how could she let that man put a child in her without being crushed? that would be a ridiculous news story for sure, “dursley suffocated to death while dancing the tango” —his aunt takes tango classes and number seven would never let an opportunity like that go to waste. it would be town gossip thats for sure; no one would care but it would be just another death overlooked. 

he’s shaken from his thoughts as he feels magic enter the small magical field he surrounded himself with to be forewarned of intruders. he lifts his head and checks the area of influence his magic has created, locating the other source of magic further down the hall. 

a brunet slytherin stops slightly when his eyes spot harry. harry grunts slightly, pulling himself to his feet as nyx subtly tightens around him. the boy is no immediate threat to him at the moment, he can tell by the way he’s clutching his books tightly as if he’s ready to defend himself but not attack. 

harry brushes past him with a small nod only getting a glimpse of wide, glittering amber eyes as he turns the corner. 

“hello harry...” harry turns from where he’s standing on the bridge, looking across the lake with the wind rushing through his hair. professor lupin is the source of the voice, the man walking over and standing next to harry harry without getting too close. 

“professor lupin.” harry greets politely. he’d been looking through law books on creatures for weeks but still hasn’t talked with professor lupin since the boggart incident. 

“i was wondering if you’d join me for a cup of tea?” at least professor lupin is obliviously blunt. in any other situation, harry would’ve found this extremely creepy had it been anyone else. the familiar feeling of werewolf magic is enough to have him nodding and following the professor to the defense office in a tower. 

harry settles into a transfigured armchair near the fire that’s surprisingly comfortable. the room looks different than when he’s in class, there’s no magical creature or desks in the room, just a comfy sitting area. it pleases harry to say the least at how comforting the room is as of now. lupin calls a house elf for tea and settles into a chair besides him. 

“you know harry, i recognised you the first time i saw you...” harry unconsciously reaches up to flatten his hair over his scar, it annoys him to no end that he can’t glamour the wretched thing here. “not because of your scar; because of your eyes. did you know you have your mothers eyes harry?” harry looks away at the comparison and frowns to himself.

professor lupin definitely knew his parents. he saw from how the mans lingered as if he was waiting for harry to act a certain way. this man expects him to be a carbon copy of james potter just like dumbledore. well he’s sorry to disappoint but he’s never met the man himself and decidedly has no reason to live up to the mans legacy. 

“i always thought it was a byproduct of the killing curse...” his voice comes out intrigued but inwardly he’s snarking the quip. professor lupins eyes widen and he splutters slightly at the reply, this was obviously not what the man expected him to say by any means —he didn’t expect himself to say it either, honestly, it’s nothing like the harry potter he’s supposed to be would say. 

“that’s... i can see why you’d think that.”  _ can you really? _ harry smiles up at the man softly, he doesn’t know wether to believe the man or not. “i knew your parents when i went to school here... i was best friends with your dad. there was four of us, the marauders.” he carries on and he must think harrys eyes brighten or something —they don’t, harrys just interested in what he can find out about the enigma of his professor. “wormtail, padfoot, prongs and me, moony.” not subtle at all, no wonder they were gryffindors. he means, ‘moony’, seriously?

“which one was my dad?” harry sits up on the edge of his seat, happy to needle more information out of the man, maybe he can find out who sirius black was to him in the process. 

“prongs was your dad, he was always the most charming of us all...” lupin smiles to himself in nostalgia, his elbow patches brushing against the arms of the chair as he folds them on his chest, leaning back. 

“who were the other two?” he asks softly and the professor flinches,  _ bingo _ . 

“wormtail was a man named peter pettigrew, black killed him when he tried to get help. padfoot was... sirius black. it hurts he betrayed us...” lupin sighs and harry blinks, he didn’t expect them to be that close. he’ll have to find out the origins behind these nicknames soon, maybe after the first moon he can confront lupin. 

“i understand how hard it must’ve been.” he says softly, turning his gaze to the fire, ignoring the piercing eyes on the side of his face as he thinks about his own betrayal by dumbledore, a man he entrusted his life to once upon a time. didnt grey tell him about how  severus mentioned them, severus as in severus snape. he wonders what the man thinks of slytherins then, were they friends at all?

one of the kitchen elves takes that moment to pop up, a tray balanced carefully in one hand. “tikki be having professor lupin and mister harry potters tea!” she says setting down the tray on the small wooden coffee table between the two. 

“thank you tikki, that will be all.” harry supposes as a werewolf, lupin feels the need to be over polite to other creatures. harry grins at tikki and gives her a small wave, she squeaks and pops out with a blush. lupin raises an eyebrow at him but he shrugs with a mischievous smirk. lupin sighs fondly and picks up his tea and taking a sip, harry doing the same. he sighs in content when the coldness slowly leaves his hands as they wrap around the boiling cup. 

he decides to bring up astoria, not naming her of course, “the other day i found two older gryffindors bullying a first year slytherin. it was horrible and i didn’t know what to do. i chased them away and took the first year to the medical wing...” he pushes his magic out and watches a flash go through the professors eyes. it’s not a particularly nice flash but it’s full of regret, his aura dripping with repulsion. it seems this man dislikes slytherins as much as the next gryffindor —harry doesn’t really count as he was practically coerced into gryffindor. 

“i see... that is very unfortunate. i’m sorry you had to witness such a thing.” the professor placates and harry is momentarily stunned at his complete ignorance. he waved off the slytherin like it was only a matter of harry having to see it being the problem and not the fact that someone was getting bullied —also what fourth year bullies a first year? that’s almost as vile as vernon and dudley are to him. 

harry nods solemnly wondering if the man truly understands what he’s just done, how much insight harry’s just gotten on his personality. it had looked as though the man had been through the same process many times before, it seemed more like a deflecting mechanism than pure ignorance. 

looking closer, professor lupin seems more tired than usual. his skin is ashen, the bags under his eyes a contrastingly dark shade of purple. he wonders why today, a day when everyone is enjoying their time at hogsmeade and all is well —no he isn’t bitter at all— that the man seems so miserable, downtrodden even. the light in his eyes makes him seem somewhat expectant. harry sighs, he wishes the man would just come out with what he wants from harry. 

that very moment the door slams open and to harry’s utter surprise, professor snape walks in. he stops in front of them and harry sees some indistinguishable emotion crossing his eyes before he settles his trademark scowl onto his face. the tension between the professors is high and harry has no doubts they know each other more intimately than it seems, with professor lupins newfound dislike of slytherins, harry wonders how deep their relationship goes. 

snape drops a steaming potion in front of lupin and harrys head shoots up, alarmed as his magic recognises the potion. he eyes the potion warily and ignores the amusement that passes through the teachers —both for different reasons he’s sure. lupin probably believes him to be distrustful of snape while snape probably wonders if harry thinks he’s stupid enough to kill the professor with a witness —even if he’s unknowingly doing it anyways. 

“are you sure thats safe to drink?” he asks, eyeing the steam coming off the poisonous concoction to deflect their suspicions. 

“do you deem my skills naught potter?” snape snaps with unveiled annoyance. harry stares at the centre of his nose —learning about legilimency left him wary, no matter how strong his occlumency shields are— and exhales heavily before plastering a false smile on. 

“not at all, i was merely wondering if drinking the potion as it is would burn professor lupins throat sir!” he says, beaming up at snape who looks startled at the lack of attitude in his voice. no one is here to witness or track his behaviour right now and perhaps shaking his professors sights a bit will prove worth it in the long haul. “if you’ll excuse me, i’ll let you two get on with whatever it is you’re doing.” he says and stands briskly, unable to be around the horrible concoction without thoughts of greyback and in turn, his nasty boggart. 

“you aren’t going to ask questions?” professor lupin mumbles with a raised eyebrow, this draws snapes attention as well and harry curses lupin because now snape will be suspicious. 

“it’s none of my business what potions you take professor, it’d be rude to question what you do with yourself.” harry smiles more genuinely this time, the tightness of his features going unnoticed as they look at him surprised with his maturity. 

walking back to gryffindor tower, harrys confused when he finds the stairs filled with people, stood still like there’s a traffic jam. he frowns, pushing his magic out to alert people of his presence. a few people turn to look at him before they part like the red sea did for moses, letting him reach the top. 

“percy, what happened?” he asks softly when he finds the prefect next to the entrance. the twins move, showing what they were in front of the whole time. he frowns deeply when he sees the fat lady’s portrait adorning deep slashes. 

“the fat lady’s gone, her portrait was like this when we got here.” percy says, his face as pinched as always —the boy always looks like he’s bitten a lemon. 

“the headmaster’s here!” someone shouts and harry quickly pulls his magic back in with a barely contained scowl. 

he assesses the marks on the painting, gingerly reaching out to touch them. he’s suddenly reminded of the dog he saw all summer. the dog found him in the alleyway, who’s to say they couldn’t find him at hogwarts. whoever this dog is, clearly isn’t as doglike as harry had assumed. the skinny grim never seemed to hold intent of harm however which makes this all the more intriguing. 

the headmaster storms up the previously made pathway with filch on his heels, mrs norris in his arms. the man looks uncharacteristically serious and harry almost sneers at the take nature of him. harry raises an eyebrow as the headmaster moves to brush him out of the way, an arm is pulling him away before the man can touch him much to harrys relief. he isn’t surprised to find himself in george’s arms when he looks up to find his savour. the boy looks at him knowingly and harry rolls his eyes. 

“argus, gather all the portraits and ghosts to have them search for the fat lady!” harry hasn’t the slightest clue how he fell for the headmasters grandfatherly act before now. he’s ashamed to say if he didn’t know any better himself, he would’ve fallen for it this time to. 

“no need headmaster...” filch says and the all turn to look at him, finding him staring up onto one of the higher levels. 

there’s a rush of feet as everyone clambers to reach the painting. harry breathes deeply as he’s protectively held by the twins to stop him from being pushed over. they arrive at the painting to find the fat lady —he really needs to find out her actual name— behind a... hippopotamus? is there a magical equivalent to the animal or is that a magical creature that looks like a hippopotamus or just a hippo?

“my dear lady, would you enlighten us on what happened?” the headmaster holds an air of sympathy as he confronts the woman. 

the fat lady peaks out from behind the hippo, cowering as she stares at her old frame. “it was that horrible man that everyone keeps talking about. i was just sitting there when he demanded entrance but i obviously refused, then he did that! it was that- that sirius black!” she hollers. harry feels like he’s been hit with a blasting curse at the revelation. the dog, the one that’s more human than dog, the one that has different magic to greyback but magic like mcgonogall is sirius black, his godfather. while black isn’t a death eater, he still could’ve been after harry for his imprisonment but he hadn’t harmed harry; in fact he tried to keep harry out of harm especially when he heard the werewolf comment and saw nyx. 

“everyone to the great hall!” dumbledore shouts. there’s a mad rush as harry stares up at the painting the fat lady resides in. 

oh dear, now this is quite the predicament. black isn’t a threat to harry but he’s after something or else he would’ve harmed harry earlier. perhaps the man wants something that has nothing to do with harry at all, seeing if that was the case he could’ve done something about it in summer. he’ll admit, black is smart, somehow surpassing the hogwarts wards to get inside. the man is reckless however, definitely a gryffindor as his actions prove, to break in during broad daylight is a ridiculous notion. 

the corridors have emptied by now, harry gives the tarnished gryffindor entrance one last pensive look before turning on his heel and sauntering down the stairs. 

he wonders if anyone has noticed his absence yet, especially as it’s him they claim black is after. he’ll keep the knowledge of the man to himself for now, no need to do anything unnecessary without a letter back from the goblins. he almost forgot griphook agreed to research for him. 

he strolls into the great hall calmly as the teachers eyes snap his way, he hears startled gasps from mcgonogall who immediately makes her way over to him to check him for injuries, snape surprisingly follows behind her. 

“detention for blatant foolery of disobeying the headmasters orders immediately. tomorrow at 8pm!” he scowls and harrys suddenly not so surprised anymore. 

he joins his friends when mcgonogall is done fretting and notices immediately that rons concern does not reach his eyes. the telltale signs of jealously showing in his clipped words and rigid stance. 

the twins whisk harry up to where the fifth years are gathered to his surprise and he sits in between them, happily conversing with lee jordan. hermoine tries to reach him as does everyone else. he’s shielded in the group of fifth years and he’s never been more grateful for the twins. 

it’s later that night when he’s curled up between the twins that he’s hit with the realisation of it being halloween. bad thing always happen on halloween and if he’d known the date he would’ve seen something like this coming. first year it was the troll —a blessing and a curse that granted him hermoines friendship for better or worse— and second year when the basilisk first broke out. 

it’s that memory that reminds him of the diary hidden in his pocket library near the back. he flinches at the memory of the book and what he’d done. it’s then that he keeps his eyes open, with no curtains to spell silent he can’t be waking everyone up by screaming with nightmares and unsettling them further. 

harry gently knocks on the door to the potions classroom at one minute to 8pm. “enter!” the word echoes and he pushes open the door silently. he feels snapes eyes on him, no doubt wondering how he avoided the usual creak of the doors. 

“you’ll be cleaning the cauldrons,  _ without magic _ !” snape seems pleased with his decision but harry shrugs to himself, even though he does know cleaning charms —he uses them at the dursley’s to get through chores faster when he can get away with it— he doubts snape would look over the fact that he does, meaning it would be reported to dumbledore. 

he gently places his wand on the desk closest to snape, he doesn’t want the man to physically be in reach of his wand but the dour potions master wants it in sight so he’ll compromise. he can always accio it to himself wandlessly like grey had him practise for these exact situations. 

harry picks the cauldrons up, his hand gracefully cleaning it out with a sponge, sporadic movements of muscle memory. it’s those actions that catch snapes eye and he does his best to make it seem like he’s struggling. 

as he comes to his last cauldron his mind thinks quickly of something to get the teacher off his back; the potions master had been watching him too cautiously the past few days especially with the black incident yesterday. if he doesn’t want to be found with darker objects than harry potter should, he cannot be the main target on snapes radar —as one does, harry can never be fully off the radar— so he’ll comprise and put someone else higher up in the mans suspicions to move the spotlight off himself. 

“professor...?” he starts slowly and snape eyes him suspiciously, he supposes he’d been terribly rude to the man under compulsions, going as far as to ditch appropriate titles. he curls in on himself when the glare sharpens. he really does wonder why no one ever wondered how strange his prejudice was —is for the sake of lowering eyes on himself— as someone muggle raised he shouldn’t of held the same judgements as the others. 

“spit it out potter!” snape demands and harry counts it as his second win of the year, albeit the situation with davis was harder to manipulate than this. 

“professor lupin mentioned some things to me yesterday when we had tea,” he sees the exact moment the professors full attention is caught and his eyes fill with curiosity, no doubt wondering where he’s going with this. “it’s just.. he said he was friends with black...” harry says just loud enough for snape to hear him. 

“and?” harrys surprised the professor hasn’t understood the direction this is going. his eyes are full of hatred and harrys more invested in his past with the men now than before. 

“you don’t think professor lupin would help him get into hogwarts would you?” harry asks softly, eyes as innocent as he can make them besides pushing his magic out to pass his irrelevant point. 

snape stares for a few minutes in silence, the cogs obviously turning in his mind before he’s standing up with a curse. he dismisses harry before calling the headmasters office into his floo, mumbling about stupid mutts. he hadn’t even called harry out on his odd behaviour. 

all in all, harry thinks he did well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: fuck everyone  
> *sees claw marks*  
> Harry’s brain: DOG. SIRIUS BLACK. MANDOG.


	14. down, down, down

swaying slightly, harry clutches the wall as vertigo overtakes his vision. in all honesty he had known that sending apollo for grey in the early hours of the morning would work out more in the werewolf’s favour than his own, but it’s better than risking lives of anyone who lives in surrey —or even hinting at greybacks whereabouts.

nyx holds him tightly as he feels another sharp, painful tug in his sternum from being such a distance away to apollo. normally, it would be mildly uncomfortable or painless but harry figures that’s if the intention is to get a quick message across, not have his patronus spend the day with someone else until the early hours of tomorrow, a whole day after. 

he didn’t see professor lupin at breakfast and it isn’t that surprising in all honesty. grey always looks so worn and tired in the days leading up to the full moon but it’s definitely not as bad as he would be without harrys weird ability to affect him magically. he has no sympathy for lupins pain, the only thing he can relate to with the professor is the way people are quick to judge him as they do werewolves, honestly in his case it might even be worse.

he clutches his side, gently feeling the ridges of the scars he received during his and the werewolf’s first meeting, convincing himself its worth it in the end:  _for mr grey_ . after all the man has done for him, who is harry to deny him kind treatment as the man does himself. 

he pulls himself up, inhaling harshly and ignoring the duo of magical auras he can feel in his sphere of influence. whoever they are, arent important now, they are no adult wizard and are no threat to him. he gives his scars one last brush before standing straight, breathing deeply to centre himself. 

with the state he’s in, he’s in no way safe to be around and he knows it. he’s volatile and ashen, his emotions are unstable in a way that his reactions will give away the more he knows before he can say them aloud. he’s almost cursed hermoine four times on the way to defense before neville seemed to take pity on him and usher them away. 

worse, he looks the same as he feels. he’s in no state to glamour away the bruise-like bags under his eyes or the way his cheekbones pop in a way that could cause physical damage. he knows he hasn’t been stable since the boggart but he has been getting there, that’s all that matters. it doesn’t matter that right now his eyes show the soul in him that has seen death, the one he usually hides, draining all life from his usually vibrant green orbs. 

maybe it’s the way his grip is too tight on his wand, or his face is so inexplicably blank that make people think twice before approaching him today. his magic isn’t going to let him get hurt or hurt anyone else with the way it’s cold hue steers people away. it’s a shame, but he’ll be alright tomorrow. 

he enters the defense classroom, ignoring the slytherins he know just saw his little break down. they cannot use it against him after tomorrow either way, he shall have researched other ways to help greyback by then. 

he takes the open seat next to neville near the middle back of the classroom, snubbing the perturbed expressions of his best friends as he ends up being the gryffindor nearest the slytherins. they —the slytherins— too glare at him in bewilderment but he’s content to lay his head on his desk and disregard everyone around him, he has no time to play a pretend care for their thoughts. 

he can’t say he’s surprised when snape storms into the room, slamming the windows dramatically as his robes billow —he wonders if the man has a love of theatrics then pushes it aside, he’s never seen the man look kindly at even a slytherin. 

“turn to page 394!” he can however say he did let out a quiet, startled snort when professor snape presents them with a page on werewolves. “at the moment your professor finds himself incapable of teaching, as such i shall be taking over his lesson today!” snape announces loudly, glancing at harry as if he’d find some sort of protest. 

“but sir we’ve just begun learning about hinkypunks, we aren’t supposed to learn about werewolves for another few weeks.” for someone who has higher respect for authority than dumbledore for lemon drops, hermoine seems to make snape an exception to her little law abiding antics. 

“now, who can tell me the difference between an animagus and a werewolf?” he has to give snape props for even so much as hinting to black and lupins true nature. had he not had the ability to read magic, he surely would’ve pieced it all together from the few sentences snape had spoken in a matter of days if not minutes. “no one, what a shame...” snape drawls. 

it clicks, —a phenomenon in his mind— snape is  _warning_ them. 

before he knows what he’s doing, harry is raising his hand alongside his occlumency shields as he meets snapes eyes lazily. “potter. go on then... inform us.” there’s a look of curiosity in his eyes as he ignores hermoines frustrated waving to get his attention —maybe she has a school girl crush on snape, wouldn’t that be horrific if word got out. only if it’s true of course!

“an animagus is someone who willingly shifts to their animal form. in contrast a werewolf does not have a choice when the full moon arises. should a werewolf come across you, you will cease to survive even if you are a loved one of the wizard or witch. a werewolf cannot control their minds when they shift, they will not hesitate to bite... or claw whoever gets in their way—“

“a werewolf only responds to the call of its own kind!” he sends a ferocious glare at hermoine when she cuts off his passionate explanation in her usual pompous way. she resembles malfoy in such a way he wonders if she realises herself how prissy she is —then malfoy howls and harry changes his mind, she is far more mature than malfoy but he does not think it to be in a good way. 

“thank you mister malfoy.” he thinks he sees snape actually roll his eyes at the blond. “miss granger, that is the second time you have spoken out of turn. are you incapable of restraining yourself or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all? to go as far as to cut of one of your own housemates, one must wonder how you remain persistent at all. five points from gryffindor!” he hears ron whisper a quick comment about snape having a point and subtly puzzles on why the boy would say such a thing with hermoine looking the thunderous way she does. 

snape turns his way, “as for yourself mister potter... i find myself surprised...” harry considers this the highest praise he’ll ever fish out of snape. “as an antidote to your ignorance and on my desk by monday morning, two rolls of parchment on the werewolf with particular emphasis on how to recognise one!” he thought slytherins were supposed to be the subtle ones. 

in his moment of distraction a little floating paper crane lands in his hand and he tilts his head, lifting it to find malfoy smirking his way. unfolding it, he can’t say he isn’t surprised at being able to even decipher the picture. he wonders if malfoy hopes he just misses the fact this couldn’t have been drawn in mere seconds and the blond had to actually take time to sketch it. it’s an awfully illustrative drawing of him getting hit by lightning in the next quidditch match. he ignores the jab at his scar passively and turns to raise an eyebrow at the slytherin, receiving a malicious smirk in response —he looks strikingly similar to an angry kitten. 

“but sir! quidditch is tomorrow!” seamus calls out and he doesn’t even  _play_ . his irish accent is thick and sounds remarkably angry. 

“seeing as you do not play quidditch mister finnigan, it should be no task at all. quidditch is not an excuse to avoid homework. ten points from gryffindor!” it annoys him to no end that all eyes end up turning his way even though he hasn’t been addressed. at least not yet— “mister potter, would you like to voice any complaints?” there we go. snapes voice is threateningly silky, the tone he always takes before passing out detentions like a clown with balloon animals —that’s a terrible comparison actually, clowns are supposed to bring joy while snape brings misery. 

“no professor!” he obliges sweetly, ignoring the startled looks he receives. a sharp tug on his chest has him biting his cheek harshly to stop himself groaning. his eyes flash briefly with pain and he knows snape saw it. snape says nothing as he continues to assess harry, watching the brunets shoulders relax when the pain subsides to a bearable amount. 

“what excuses do i accept potter?” snape snarls, his eyes narrowing in on harry. he can imagine what snapes thinking right now —‘ _just another one of potters attempted attention grabs_ ’. 

“none but death sir.” hearing affronted gasps he wonders if his smile stays looking calm or if he’s taken up the vicious grin that passes over him from time to time. 

“you talk so plainly about death potter, yet you have never encountered it first hand. have you boy?” he knows his smile goes taught at the last word. his face pinched as he flicks through memories of getting thrown into walls by the dursley’s. then he comprehends the question. 

“we both know you have the answer to that professor.” keeping polite tones is the only thing that stops him from leaving at this very moment. the horrible feeling of quirrell burning beneath his fingers playing over and over again in his mind. 

the moment snape realises he’s messed up, harry sees it. the way his eyes widen slightly and his eyes flicker in horrible regret. it’s only harry himself who is not thinking of his parents at the moment, to remember their deaths is something but to have someone die in front of him because of him is different. but perhaps it’s also his fault his parents met death, without him they would surely still be alive as voldemort never would’ve considered them a threat. 

snape quickly moves on with the lesson but harry isn’t paying much attention anymore. and honestly? who can blame him. 

“potter, go to the hospital wing!” he looks up from his book and isn’t surprised to find davis but two other slytherins with her. she takes a seat opposite him and the boys seat either side of her. 

harry frowns, casting a tempus so he can check the date, he knows he isn’t supposed to be doing the potions assignment with davis today. “what do you want?” he asks confusedly. 

“for you to go to the hospital wing. you look like you just got out of hell.” the boys either side of her look highly uncomfortable no matter their feigned indifference. 

“i think i should go,” he says eyeing the boys at her sides. the brunet boy is vaguely fidgety while the dark skinned boy is tapping obnoxiously —he wonders if they realise they’re even doing it. “ron and hermoine will skin me if they find me near you.” he says softly. last time they’d found him working on his assignment with davis they’d bodily dragged him out of the library to his and madam pince’s annoyance. 

“you haven’t told them you’re doing an assignment with me?” she states, eyeing harry with a precise calculation that sets him on edge. 

“what good would that do anyways? their hatred for slytherins is ridiculous and they’d go to dumbledore in an instance, something i am not risking right now.” he sways slightly, a harsh tug forcing the breath out of him. the conclusion comes with their reactions, the boys send pointed looks at davis who glares at harry; they’re the ones who saw his little episode outside defense. 

“and why aren’t you risking it? i’m risking myself to try and make you get help. dumbledore would be the best option for you—“ 

“ _no!_ ” he hisses lowly. his eyes narrow and he wonders if he slipped into parseltongue with the way they recoil from him. “i don’t need help. not from you, not from anyone and not from  _dumbledore_ . i’ll be fine in the morning anyways, it’d be pointless.” he pushes his point onto them, he has no idea what they’re like and if they themselves go to dumbledore he’d have no way of knowing until it’s too late. 

“what’s wrong with you anyways?” the dark skinned boy pipes up in a velvety voice that makes harry want to spill his soul. 

“that would be telling.” their eyes go wide at his words and davis leans closer to look at him properly. he chuckles slightly and moves to walk away. 

“no. sit down potter, we aren’t kicking you out of your spot.” davis rolls her eyes and harry smiles at the sense of familiarity it gives, flopping back down into his seat ungracefully. 

“blaise zabini.” the dark skinned boy says suddenly, holding his hand out. harry wonders what malfoy would do if he saw him now, shaking hands with a slytherin after all. he gently grasps blaises hand, smiling into the flirtatious onyx eyes. his charms do not work in harry anyways. 

“theodore nott.” the other says. it’s the brunet boy from the clock tower, his startling amber eyes would scare him if he didn’t find them so fascinating. he daintily shakes the others hand, his thin fingers smoothing against soft skin. 

“harry.” he tells them with a dorky smile that makes davis snort. 

“so tell me  _harry_ , what’s with the rose?” it seems blaise is going to take advantage of the situation, which is fine with harry even if the boy sounds ridiculously smug with using his first name. blaise seems to think he’ll react badly to a slytherin acting so familiar with him but he’s too tired to care and there’s no ron to weasel him about it. 

“rose...?” he mumbles to himself, his brows furrowing as he looks at blaise. 

“the one behind your ear.” davis points out as if he’s the dumbest person she’s met, he could be in her eyes. 

he reaches up and startles slightly when he pulls the white rose out of his hair, staring down at it in amazement. he cautiously looks down at nyx who bobs guiltily in a way which makes him chuckle softly. 

“who’s it from? a future consort?” through his dazed horror at the aspect he wonders if slytherins are always so blunt or if they consider him too gryffindor to understand their motives. 

“no!” he squawks at them. he shudders as he thinks of the prospect, poor little aurora if that ever happens. “i was on the pier and this little girl, aurora, gave it to me. apparently her mother her told her to give it to an angel...” he says, rolling his eyes at the last bit as he chuckles fondly, rubbing the rose between his finger tips. 

“and you’re an angel?” davis sarcastically quips but harry shakes his head silently, mood becoming solemn as he flicks through memories; defense has left him ...unsettled. 

she raises an eyebrow at him but a familiar voice high pitched exclaiming loudly has him grabbing his books and bolting silently. 

he’s standing in the locker rooms the next morning, waiting for the inevitable arrival of apollo. oliver wood has been watching him like a hawk and harry cannot risk anyone seeing his patronus return to him, nor the strain it’s actually taking him to leave apollo out. 

he feels the exact moment when apollo returns to him, hitting him straight in the back, sending off a powerful wave of magic. he relaxes and inhales sharply. 

the life has returned to his body. 

he smiles shortly to himself before he hears the tell-tale signs of the gryffindor team clambering into the changing rooms. oliver immediately seeks him out receiving a vicious smirk in response to his concern, green eyes sparkling. oliver blinks then returns the sharp curve of harrys mouth with victory in his eyes. 

“you clean up well potter. whatever you did, let’s hope nobody finds out if it’s illegal!” he wonders if he pushes his magic out enough, would oliver bury a body for him to make it to quidditch in time —not that he thinks he’ll have a corpse on hand anytime soon. 

harry widens his eyes, “me? doing something illegal?” he bats his eyelashes and oliver seems actually flustered for a minute before the twins swoop over to him like vultures, breaking the spell. harry supposes he’ll need to be more careful with his magic in the next few days to make sure he doesn’t overpower anything. 

oliver starts to go through the game plan but harry sees the way he stubbornly refuses to look his way now, he wonders why. the twins seem to know however and grin mischievously at him. 

they walk out onto the pitch and harry wonders if he missed more than just the change in rivals at breakfast, because instead of students clad in green there’s an obvious contrast in bright yellow. 

the winds have picked up since the early hours of the morning, clouds filling the air with an impending sense of doom. his glasses are spelled waterproof and even if he doesn’t need them, they add an extra layer of protection to his eyes. 

he grips his nimbus tightly at the telltale coldness of the harsh winds. he’s not so blind —the irony to that makes him giggle slightly, the others look at him in wonder— as to miss the fact something is going to go wrong. ever since first year, his first quidditch match of the year has some added danger that shouldn’t be there —he’s an extraordinary exception to the rules. 

he mounts his broom, the wind hissing in his ears as he ignores hoochs familiar “no nonsense, no cheating!” speech. he smiles when his broom hums under his hands as he pushes his magic into it to avoid the possibility of curses this match. 

somehow he spots malfoy in the slytherin stands, the blond hair sticking out vastly in the crowd and his smug face tells harry all he needs to know: the slytherins called injury. he rolls his eyes, surely they had a reserve seeker?

he rises quickly when the whistle is blown, speeding up, up, up into the misty air. he whoops loudly as he does a loop, relishing in the weightlessness of flight. 

he pulls over next to the other seeker with a small wave. the hufflepuff seeker —cedric diggory, if his memory serves correct. at this point it usually does— waves back with a bewildered expression. “good luck!” he calls out over the wind, hoping his voice reaches the brunet before it’s swept off in the current. 

merlin harrys missed flying: the intense feeling of freedom that plants itself in his core; the joy that bubbles over him as the wind whips his face. 

the match is going smoothly, more smoothly than harry feels comfortable with if he’s honest. 

then he spots the snitch moving, the gold flicker catching his eye as it whizzes past his head. he turns sharply, flying up after the snitch with diggory hot on his tail —broom? 

the air goes cold and harry suddenly realises why it’s so unearthly cold. there’s a distant scream of a woman in his ears and he’s bringing apollo out on instinct. he pushes his magic out wishing diggory hadn’t followed him. 

when he’s sure the dementors are only after him, he moves away from diggory, swerving past the brunet who’s still going after the snitch. harry flies down, down, down letting the dementors trail after him. 

he hears the crowd screaming and it’s a split second decision in his mind before he’s grabbing his glasses, calling out the word in parseltongue. 

“ _WOLF_ _!_ ”and if he spots a black grim hightailing into the forbidden forest, he doesn’t have the chance to think on it before there’s a telltale tugging at his navel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tracey: go get help  
> Harry: YOURE NOT MY MOTHER


	15. bloody noble hufflepuffs

he groans, blinking harshly as he hits the floor. footsteps pound towards him and he grins despite himself.

“‘ello mr grey” he says as he winces, a migraine forming from high wind pressure. 

“...kid?” greyback sounds disbelieving and to be fair, harry doesn’t really blame him. he wouldn’t know what to do if a windswept kid in quidditch gear unexpectedly dropped out of the air. 

he’d forgotten he had nyx on, the lethifold moving to push him into a sitting position from behind. in hindsight, that’s probably the smartest thing he’s done in a while; if he’d fallen from his broom nyx would’ve saved him if no one else did —even if that meant exposing the dark creature. 

greyback picks him up gently and brings him inside the cave to get away from the wind outside. he drops harry onto the bed and gives him a look that screams for him to explain. 

“so it was the middle of the quidditch match —as you can see by my uniform— and well the dementors came after the seekers. i pushed out my magic to let the hufflepuff seeker get away and they followed me and i ended up being too close to the ground to pull up so i used the portkey!” he smiles sheepishly at the explanation and greyback sighs, sitting down heavily beside him. 

“so how’s your little gang doing kid?” grey asks as he leans back casually against the headboard. harry assesses him quickly for any new scars that could’ve happened since he left but happily finds only a few that are probably from the sketchier parts of the market. 

“well ron and hermoine are the same as always, take it how you please. i’ve told you about befriending some of the other gryffindors. tracey davis, my slytherin potions partner brought along two of her friends yesterday, zabini and nott so i think they’re at least civil with me.” harry says with a shrug and grey eyes him suspiciously. 

“why’d she bring the others along?” he asks and harry understands the mans suspicions, he’d be suspicious too if he hadn’t seen the slytherins witness his lapse in strength. 

“she demanded i go to the hospital wing —i didn’t— then they just introduced themselves. i reckon it’s the boys who noticed something off, davis can be unreasonably oblivious and unguarded for a slytherin.” he snickers softly. he’s become more tolerant of the slytherin and her snarky remarks since their first potions lesson without malfoy remarking insults into their ears. he purposely avoids mentioning what exactly was ‘off’ knowing grey would never let him send apollo again. 

“now all you need are some badgers and claws to rule the school!” greyback mumbles sarcastically even though harry knows he’s right. 

“i should eventually apologise to finch-fletchly for that snake fiasco in duelling club i guess...” harry admits and greyback groans exaggeratedly next to him, mumbling about enforcing stupid ideas. 

“anything interesting happen in the past few days then? —besides getting chased by dementors while in the middle of a quidditch match of course.” grey teases with exaggerated movements and harry throws a pillow at him while rolling his eyes. 

“well if you must know. i told you about sirius black breaking in didnt i?” he receives a nod of confirmation. “well i figured out he’s an animagus!” harry finishes and greyback stares at him with an unreadable look on his face. “i don’t think he’s after me because i saw him in his animagus form last summer but only figured out it was him when the fat lady said he turned into a beast with silver eyes, the slashes on her painting only confirmed my theory further!” he explains and grey seems to slowly get more exasperated. 

“only you could figure something like that out. you and your little hyperactive brain are too curious for your own good!” greyback says as he stands up, checking if the rain stopped. harry rolls his eyes when the man tries to cast a drying spell and pushes his magic out to pull thewater from grass himself, tapping into his elemental magic so he can move it to the pond. 

he skips outside and lets greyback transfigure a blanket —greyback is extremely good at the subject for someone who never attended hogwarts— before he sits down on it. the man then continues into the cave to grab food from his small cooler inside. 

“i never would’ve figured it out if i couldn’t sense his magic is like professor mcgongalls —who showed her animagus form on the first lesson we had her. just like how i wouldn’t know professor lupins a werewolf without knowing your magic!” he says and greyback freezes in the middle of cutting the loaf of white bread in his calloused hands. 

“lupin you said?” the man chokes out, paler than normal. harry cringes at the reaction because for one greyback never looks remotely afraid of anything and secondly he obviously recognises the name —it could work out in harry’s favour in the end, he could gather more information on his werewolf professor. 

“yeah. lupin, remus lupin. he almost caught me domesticating the dementor on the train. i mentioned him in my first letter back. you know him?” harry lifts the mood slightly as grey retains some of his colour again. he leans in, eyes alight with curiosity, making grey laugh when he catches the familiar glint in his eyes —oh, how greyback misses having someone to talk to. at least hedwig visits regularly now, the damn bird always knows when he has a letter to send. 

“remus lupin, huh? it’s been a while since i’ve heard that name, years in fact. i do know him. i turned him; i bit him...” greyback turns away from the glare of horror he’s sure he’ll find in harrys eyes. 

“why’d you bite him then?” harry asks nonchalantly as he fills his sandwich with tuna and sweetcorn. greyback turns to him stunned, also wondering if the boy knows the seriousness of turning someone —then again harry chose to spend summer with him. 

“...his father was trying to press laws against werewolves so my wolf took revenge on the full moon.” greyback admits and harry smiles sympathetically, pushing a sandwich into his hand. 

“i’ll leave tomorrow morning. i’ve already come up with a cover story: i just woke up in the forbidden forest!” harry speaks and greyback chokes on his sandwich as he laughs. 

“wow, so thought out!” grey praises with fake seriousness. harry wrinkles his nose and flicks his fingers, sending a spark of fire towards greybacks forehead. the man splutters indignantly, glaring with no real anger at the boy in front of him. 

“id say it’s a great plan. the more simple, the better the plan goes!” harry waves his hand ignorantly as greyback rolls his eyes at the boys insolence. 

“what about the old fool?” grey points out as he purposely looks away from harry to hide his anger. 

“he won’t know the difference, he can’t get past my occlumency shields even if he catches me eyes. as long as i’m good little harry potter the golden boy, everything works out in his favour; ‘ _ for the greater good _ _’!_ ” harry hisses the last part, annoyance stirring in his gut at the familiarity of the quote that was once nothing but words to him; now it retains a much darker meaning. 

“i don’t know why you don’t just report him yet kid...” he tells harry exasperatedly, tiredness seeping into his voice. 

“he’s held too high in status right now. i have to tear down his reputation before i can say anything about my involvement.” he admits his plan is more complex than greyback would assume of him. he needs to get dirt on the old man —that he no doubt has considering rumours originate from somewhere— first, before bringing himself into the mix. if he tries now it’ll look like an attention grab more than anything and if there’s anything harry hates more than dumbledore, it’s the attention the old man thrust onto his shoulders without warning. 

“why are you able to plan for next year when you can’t plan for tomorrow morning? seriously what the fuck kid?” grey huffs, leaning back against a tree trunk. 

harry sits quietly, allowing himself to think about the betrayal for the first time in a while. how had he never noticed anything wrong. the man set everything up, especially in first year; spiking childish curiosity about the third floor when warning a ‘painful death’, letting a troll into the school —let’s be honest, he knows dumbledore knew it was there— to befriend hermoine, to give him the cloak for christmas while setting the mirror in a reachable place and then setting the traps easy enough for first years to get through. it’s no wonder voldemort was in the school at the end of it all. 

“i was so blind to follow him unquestioningly...” harry acknowledges softly. he wonders what his life would’ve turned out like if he was raised by his parents or even black. what if voldemort had just kidnapped him and raised him to be loyal?

“it’s not your fault kid, you didn’t know any better. you were under all these compulsions and had beliefs forced onto you that you had no say in. don’t beat yourself up over it you’re still a kid.” greyback replies, ruffling harrys hair comfortingly. 

“what did i do to deserve it though? i must’ve done something ...right?” hesitantly, he questions his own thoughts as he cringes slightly. there must’ve been a reason for the spells to be put on him. maybe dumbledore was some type of seer... that’s definitely not it otherwise tom riddle never would’ve found the existence of horcruxes. “whatever. i asked one of the goblins, griphook, to send me a letter about the horcruxes so i can destroy them before i inevitably have to face voldemort next.” harry shakes off his previous train of thought, unaware of the conflict that passes through his werewolf friend eyes. 

“...plural?” greyback asks after a moment of silence. 

“tom marvolo riddle had lost all sanity from the moment he found out horcruxes existed. he made one in his fifth year at hogwarts —the diary— and i don’t doubt he has multiple of them. creating a horcrux damages your sanity. he was already insane, just a kid at the time. dumbledore meddled in toms life like he did before mine even started. tom riddle could’ve been great but he’s a lost cause now. so i’ll destroy the horcruxes, there’s no need for me to waste my life trying to repair someone who was damaged before the age of eleven.” harry did like tom in the diary, truly he did. now he knows the boy had just manipulated him like dumbledore. they both pretend to have his best health in mind and he can see this now; without blocks there’s no way he couldn’t spot the manipulation. toms betrayal hurts almost more than dumbledores, because he could relate to tom. he is like tom; but he’ll never be like voldemort no matter what shitty trials dumbledore has him run. 

“i still have his diary, which i know now is a horcrux. i couldn’t destroy it then even if i knew how. it hasn’t bothered me since the chamber incident anyways.” he divulges to greyback. the man looks startled for a moment, his eyes widening in momentary fear before they flash with understanding and sympathy; never pity. harry doesn’t appreciate when people pity him and the werewolf knows this. 

“i get it kid. the senile fool put blood on your hands when you where eleven —one, if you want to count it. you made your own choice. you have a big heart kid but not enough people to return the care you need.” greyback sighs, pulling harry into his side. 

harry tentatively rests his head on the mans shoulder, feeling older than ever before. “it’s just i trusted tom. he cared about me when everyone else turned on me and that’s what made it hurt more. he used me just like dumbledore. they both used me with the plan to kill me in the end. i’m nothing more than a pawn in this world mr grey.” he’s horrified to find tears welling up in his eyes. he quickly looks up to the sky, blinking back the tears he’d hate to fall. he’s never liked crying in front of people; it makes him aware of how weak he is, it shows people how weak he is. 

“there’ll always be people who hate you in this world kid. you can’t change that. you can, however,change the way you view yourself. you aren’t a pawn anymore kid. you can set your own path now, like you’re doing anyways. you’re not voldemort and you aren’t dumbledore. so overall i’d say you’re doing pretty well.” harry let’s a watery chuckle out at the slight. greyback sighs sadly. “you’ve never had anyone to look after you kid, not like you should’ve. no matter how weird it is to have to admit this but you shouldn’t have to have your childhood taken from you because some old man needs you to complete his plans. you shouldn’t of been raised like a slave just to make you mouldable and submissive.” greyback finds himself in yet again the bizarre position of having to tell harry the way he is treated is wrong, that he doesn’t deserve it. 

he notices the tears the boy is trying to blink away and hoists the boy into his lap so he can tighten his grip on him. “you’ve got me now kid and i’m not letting you throw away your life to please insane old men. i’ll look after you...” he tells harry softly, resting his head in harrys wavy hair. 

there’s a moment of silence and greyback thinks he might’ve said the wrong thing momentarily. perhaps after all this time, the boy was in denial and truly did care for his parents. perhaps he doesn’t want greyback to take up that mantle. “...why?” grey sighs again, wondering who in the world dumbledore thinks he is to damage a child so irreversibly because of a war he started. 

“because i care about you brat, you’re my kid!” the damns break and harry let’s out a small sob, burying his face into greybacks chest to hide his face as he cries. greyback finds himself blinking away his own tears as he looks down at the small boy in his lap, the boy that changed his life so irreversibly simply out of the kindness of his heart. 

harry wonders if greyback even knows what he’s done as the realisation hits him —who’s he kidding, of course greyback must’ve realised by now, before harry. the man has picked up the much needed position of a father figure no matter how reluctant. harry finds himself warming at the thought, to have a father or a parental figure, it’s nice to have someone he can depend on. 

the sun eventually begins to go down and greyback tenderly picks harry up with one arm, using his free hand to grab his wand and vanish the picnic blanket alongside the remnants of food left out. turning, he takes harry and himself back inside the cave, feeling the way harry had slowly began to droop against him out of exhaustion. 

he pulls back the covers then removes harrys glasses and shoes, setting them aside along with the boys wand. he tucks the covers underneath harrys chin, amusement glinting in his eyes at the way harry instinctively moves to snuggle into the blanket. he smiles fondly, catching himself by surprise with the contrast to his menacing reputation. he brushes the boys hair out of his face gently. 

“i’ll look after you...” greyback mumbles softly and harry smiles to himself sleepily. as he falls asleep he feels the telltale featherlight brush of lips against his forehead before he’s engulfed by darkness. he doesn’t remember ever being tucked in, he thinks vacantly, or having his forehead kissed. maybe his parents did at one point but he doesn’t remember them, it doesn’t matter now what they did; greyback cares for him, that’s what matters. 

when morning arrives harry quickly settles on staying in his quidditch uniform to cement his story, no matter how itchy it makes his skin. greyback snorts at the uncomfortable grimace pasted on harrys face as he stretches. 

“now, we can’t have you going back there looking like anything less than hell. so kid, i propose a duel is in order to ruffle your feathers, so to speak.” the werewolf pulls out his wand with a considerably feral smile on his face. harry supposes that’s what happens when you leave someone isolated for so long after having company they enjoy —supposedly enjoy anyways, harrys still not sure about greys ulterior motives even if he knows their are none. 

“alright, you’re on old man!” harry grins as the man gasps dramatically. grey pulls his —now noticeably longer and untamed than when they first met as it falls down to his shoulders— light brown hair into a small high ponytail. harry swoons mockingly at grey who throws a stinging hex at him, missing harrys arm by inches. harry grins sharply and grey winces slightly, knowing what he’s started. 

“ _ arresto momentum! _ ” he smirks as greyback slows significantly. he always has wondered why no one used the spell to slow fighters. 

“ _ bombarda! _ ” greyback retaliates with a knowing scowl. 

“ _ protego! _ ” an impressive green shield repels the spell from hitting harry. 

“ _ diffindo! _ ” harry hisses as the spell grazes his shin. 

harry tries to use  _ incarcerous _ against the werewolf which he deflects quickly, casting  _ langlock _ on harry in a momentary lapse of memory. harry grins and wordlessly casts one of his own spells. 

‘ _ digitorum laceratio _ ’ he cackles silently as greybacks tendon tears creating an actual squelching sound that has harry cringing. he then quickly casts the body binding spell spell to keep greyback still. he sends a stinging jinx before cancelling the spells on them both with a  _finite incantatum_ . greyback howls when he’s free of the body bind, reaching down to nurture his tendon. harry rolls his eyes before casting a healing spell on the man who relaxes instantly, glaring up at harry. harry laughs, unable to take the sulking man seriously with his pout. 

“at least now you look less put together than normal...” greyback says, narrowing his eyes at harrys —now uncommonly— messy hair and wounded leg. “what was that spell anyways?” he asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at harry. 

harry grins innocently up at the werewolf, putting on a facade of innocence. “ _digitorum laceratio_ ,” he tells the man who motions for him to elaborate. “it’s the tendon tearing curse!” he says, dropping the facade to cackle at the look of horror on greybacks face. 

“and they hail you their saviour.” greyback mumbles under his breath. 

“they won’t call me that forever...” harry huffs in reply with a short laugh. “well i think it’s about time i got going before they send out search and rescue!” harry says as he clicks his shoulder. 

“you don’t think they have already?” he asks harry with a raised eyebrow. 

“not a chance, they didn’t shut down the school until a student was probably going to die. they didn’t even try to rescue her!” he points out and greyback nods. 

“keep in touch brat!” greyback says as he hugs harry once before letting the boy leave. 

harry continues to walk before he looks back when he’s at the edge of the clearing. “mr grey?” the man hums in acknowledgement, having not looked away from the boys retreating back. “i care about you too.” he says with a small smile before disappearing into the woods. 

harry grins as he reaches the familiar pavement he went to when he blew up his aunt. he reminisces fondly on the grim —sirius black— that tried to rid of nyx. he checks everything is in order quickly —nyx is on his back, his wand is in his hand and his glasses are on his face— and once he’s sure he calls the night bus again. 

“welcome to the night bus, for the stranded-“ harry grins up at stan shunpike who falters and cuts of his sentence. “mr potter, a pleasure to make your acquaintance again!” the man offers his hand again and harry takes it with a smile at the repetitive actions. 

“the pleasure is all mine!” he says as he walks down the front of the bus again, stan on his heels like a puppy chasing his tail. he sits down gracefully on the bed, immediately grabbing onto the handle again. 

“say, ain’t you meant to be at hogwarts?” the man asks suspiciously as he sits beside harry on the bed, unlike the first time. harry raises an eyebrow at the movement but doesn’t mention it, it must be his magic pulling people in again. 

“that’s where i’m heading now actually, a bit of a magical accident you see, ended up back home suddenly!” he lies bashfully and the man seems to flush under being the spotlight of harrys doe eyes. 

“magical accident huh, that’s one hell of a mistake if you ended up back in england all the way from scotland!” the man says and yes, harry does know this but thank you for the information stan. 

“yeah i don’t exactly remember what happened if i’m being honest with you, it could’ve been some death eater hoping voldemort will catch me...” he sighs, portraying a sadness that makes the journey continue in silence until they reach the edge of hogwarts, near the forbidden forest like harry had planned. 

harry smiles at stan, thanking him for the ride as he makes his way out of the bus. “be safe mr potter!” stan shouts to him and harry freezes, quickly looking around to make sure no one heard the man before the night bus promptly vanished from sight. 

“ _point me hogwarts!_ ” he whispers softly as he enters the forest, pushing his magic out to counteract the intimidation of the leering trees.

he follows the line of magic until he reaches the entrance to hogwarts. he cuts of the spell and makes his way inside, making sure students see him pass by as he makes his way over to gryffindor tower. he’s decided to clean up first before he goes to the great hall; he doesn’t want to eat breakfast while covered in itchy mud. 

gryffindor tower is unsurprisingly empty when he gets there with the exception of a few younger years. he swiftly makes his way into the third year dorms, smiling when he finds it empty. 

stripping off, he practically leaps into the shower, scrubbing the mud from his skin. the water feels amazing against his skin that had unsurprisingly turned cold over his journey here. he hisses slightly as the water reaches his wound and frowns when he realises how deep it actually is. 

he dries off with a fluffy towel and hesitates before casting  ferula at his shin, smiling when bandages encase the wound. he quickly dresses into his uniform, charming gryffindor colours onto a grumpy nyx and grabs his bag before making his way down to the great hall. 

harry isn’t surprised when all eyes turn his way as he enters the great hall, just unsettled. he sits down in between the twins and smiles at the incredulous looks. “i’m guessing hufflepuff won?” he asks sheepishly, he hadn’t really put the match as his highest priority when he popped out of existence in the middle of it. 

he’s immediately encompassed by their red auras, seemingly looking for any injuries on his body as they glare at him. “well no thanks to you vanishing in the middle of it!” fred huffs playfully with a grin when he finds no visible harm to harry. 

“it was either that, break my neck or join the dementors for their tea party.” he speaks lightly with a shrug as he grabs a piece of toast, hungry after this mornings duel. 

“your nimbus...” george utters in remembrance, sadness passing briefly over his eyes. 

“the whomping willow—“

“—got it before we could...” they tell him and he grimaces slightly at the thought of a human being getting stuck in between the branches. 

“it’s alright, i’ll just apologise to professor mcgongall after, she did after all give it to me.” he promises to himself softly. 

“mr potter.” harry turns to face professor mcgonogall with her trademark scowl aimed his way and smiles up at her. 

“professor!” he greets smoothly. 

she breaks character, sighing with tired affection. “headmaster dumbledore has asked me to take you to his office immediately.” she says and harry nods, grabbing his bag as he grabs another piece of toast, gesturing mcgonogall to show the way. 

“i must say we were all very surprised when you disappeared in the middle of the match mr potter!” she tells him disappointedly and harry chuckles to himself. 

“so am i, but you’re just upset we didn’t win the match!” harry teases and she looks at him with wide eyes for a minute, a flash of nostalgia glaring in her eyes. 

“you’ve caught me there mr potter. mr diggory all but demanded a rematch when you departed. i’m sure he’ll be after you today to apologise...” she lightens up immensely from her usual subdue and harry finds it suits her well. 

“i must admit i’m truly sorry for the end my broom came to professor...” harry concedes to her as they reach the gargoyle that stands like a sentry outside the headmasters office. 

“sugar quills.” she tells the gargoyle who lets them in unproblematically. “i too am sorry that your broom has left us mr potter!” she says with fake mourn and harry laughs brightly at the way she talks as though someone has died. she eyes him with bright eyes as they reach the top of the stairs. 

harry finds the other three heads of houses settled in a circle around dumbledore like a deity and blanks his expression, forcing a nervous look into his face. he subtly notices the sorting hat quirk it’s lip at him in contrast to its usual stillness and internally rolls his eyes. he really should be having words with that hat. 

he settles into the middle of the five seats, opposite from dumbledore and he’s glad he finished his toast on the way here —he thinks he might’ve thrown it into the mans face as he smiles in his usual fake grandfatherly way. 

“harry, my boy, why didn’t you come to me as soon as you arrived back at the school?” dumbledore scolds. 

“i was covered in dirt and blood which isn’t exactly a suitable state to show up at the great hall in.” he tells the half truth perfectly as he gazes around the room for anything incriminating. 

“blood you say?” the man says, suddenly looking more alarmed now as do the other teachers. 

“i cut my leg open on a branch.” he lies with practice and faintly notices snapes leg twitch in phantom pain, probably from the cerberus in first year, he notes with vague amusement. 

“...branch?” even dumbledore seems unable to decipher if there’s a deeper meaning in the words. 

“yes, i couldn’t find my way out of the forest you see!” he prompts wondering why no one has tried to ask where he went yet. 

“what exactly did happen at the match my boy?” he sees snapes whole body recoil slightly and stores the information away for later, the man seemingly hates the pet name as much as himself. 

“i don’t know really,” the teachers all eyes him with panicked gazes and harry smiles easily. “i didn’t know what to do when the dementors came after me and cedric so i drove them away because they were obviously after me. i didn’t know what to do when i got too close to the ground to pull away. then i woke up in the middle of the forbidden forest earlier this morning. ...did i accidentally apparate again?” he tells them before switching the subject again. 

“again?” this time it’s professor flitwick who piped up, intrigued by his wording no doubt. 

“well i didn’t know what it was called at the time but i was getting chased by... some boys in primary and wished i was somewhere safe. when i opened my eyes i was on the roof. i’m sorry, i assumed you’re know about incidents of accidental magic for some reason!” he placates softly, ignoring the look of anger mcgonogall sends dumbledore with some unknown origin. 

“are you sure that’s all you remember my boy?” dumbledore pries. 

harry looks down as he bites his lip, pretending to think about it so he doesn’t snap the headmasters neck. “quite.” he finalises. dumbledore eyes him for a moment before dismissing him and making him promise to come to him if he remembers anything more. 

“as if i’d tell you anything...” he mumbles when he’s out of the gargoyles earshot. 

later that day he’s unsurprised to find himself accosted by cedric diggory in the midst of a sea of hufflepuffs. 

“potter!” he turns to find the dirty blond running towards him with a blush on his face. everyone’s eyes are on them and harry pushes his magic out to make sure a fight doesn’t break out near them. cedrics blush increases as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, looking bashful. “i wanted to tell you i’ve asked for a rematch because it isn’t fair that i won. i only caught the snitch because you disappeared otherwise i’m sure you would’ve won the match!” he rambles, seemingly infatuated by harry. 

“don’t fret about it diggory. you won fair and square. i’m just glad i didn’t get kidnapped by some death eater mid-match, especially with black after me!” he smiles lopsidedly at cedric who’s eyes widen slightly at having harrys attention on him positively. 

“god you’re so adorable...” he hears diggory mumble and blushes himself from surprise. diggory startles when he realises harrys heard and covers his face, embarrassed. “anyways i hope you’re okay potter, apparently wood tried to drown himself in the showers according to the twins so you might want to watch your back incase he jumps you. please don’t get kidnapped by death eaters!” cedric says before jogging away, his friends teasing him while imitating his flushed state. 

ron and hermoine rush over to him just as harry spots his next target. “come on harry it’s time for dinner.” hermoine grabs his arm which he abruptly shakes to get rid of her hold, running after the hufflepuff and ignoring the voices calling after him. 

“hey, um, finch-fletchley... mind if i have a word?” he asks the boy abashedly. abruptly the third year hufflepuffs turn their glares on him accusingly and harry cringes slightly. 

“if you can tell him, you can tell us all potter!” hannah abbott announces and all harry can think is  _ bloody noble hufflepuffs _ . 

“alright then,” he replies abruptly, loving the way they falter in surprise, reassessing him. he turns to justin, “i wanted to apologise for last year. i really was telling the snake to get away from you. i realise now that it looked like i was attacking you from your point of view and hope you can forgive me?” he watches the conflict pass through the boys eyes before he sticks out his hand. 

harry grins and shakes his hand. “call me justin.” the boy says and harry positively beams. 

“you can call me harry then!” he reciprocates. the boy brightens immensely and harry wonders how much his apology means to the boy to rid of his scorn. 

“why don’t you join us at the hufflepuff table for dinner so we can get to know you better?” susan bones pipes up and harry nods, passing by his friends as he joins them at the hufflepuff table. 

in hindsight he must look a real sight at the hufflepuff table. if cedric diggory even moved to sit next to harry with all his friends joining the third years then that’s nobody’s business. harry ignores the jealous glares of the gryffindors and just enjoys his time with the hufflepuffs. 

he enjoys his time with them, he finds them good company. even zacharias smith, who yes, is like a hufflepuff malfoy, but as the supposed defendant of helga hufflepuff he’s got some fascinating information. 

when he eventually reaches the gryffindor common room, he’s positively buzzing with the warm feeling the badgers give off. it’s an odd sight for the others, completely opposite from his usual unnerving paranoia. ron and hermoine are immediately cut off by oliver wood as he sheepishly hands him a bundle. 

harry sighs fondly as he opens the fabric and finds his tarnished nimbus 2000 inside. he smiles tiredly up at oliver, “thanks for hanging onto it for me...” he says softly, leaning up to peck the house cheek. oliver flushes a fiery red and splutters unintelligibly while the twins howl with laughter as they stare at his red face. 

he moves up to the third year dorms, feeling warmer than ever and falls into a dream-filled sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greyback: you’re my kid  
> Harry: lol that makes you my weredad  
> Greyback: I shouldn’t even bother at this point


	16. essays

he should’ve realised that handing in a cancelled essay would cause some problems, really he should have. in hindsight it also wasn’t the smartest idea to use his extensive knowledge on werewolves to complete the essay, especially knowledge that sounds more like personal insight.

he really shouldn’t be surprised professor lupin called back after class. he’s just slightly shocked the man had the guts to talk about werewolves at all, particularly to his dead best friends son. 

he’s not worried though, so he stays, ignoring snape who’s not as subtle as he’s trying to be in the corner of the classroom. seemingly the man had read it before lupin and wanted to see the conversation span out. 

“ah harry, thank you for staying!” lupins jovial voice rings through the air as the last students, besides harry, leaves the room. he sees snape barely suppress the urge to sneer from the corner of his eye. 

“it’d be rude to leave when you asked so politely professor. besides i have nowhere urgent to be right now.” harry settles into the same transfigured armchair as last time, the fire sparking to life as the cold slowly steps through the cracks in the stone walls. 

“tea?” harry nods and the professor pours them both a cup from the kettle a house elf had popped in. “now you must be wondering why i’ve kept you behind...” harry really isnt wondering why he’s been kept behind, it’s obvious that because this is last lesson, snape must’ve taken the chance to go over the essay with lupin earlier in the morning —a rare moment of cooperation for the two of them no doubt. 

“yes professor. i haven’t done anything wrong, have i?” he asks with wide eyes, his hands shaking slightly. even though he isn’t worried about the essay, he is in fact quite worried he’ll give away too much in this meeting or not enough to spike their suspicions of dumbledore. 

“no not at all harry, this is just about your essay.” he tells him and harry scowls as he looks away. 

“you think i got hermoine to write it for me don’t you? i didn’t cheat professor, i used my own knowledge.” harry states harshly as he stares into the fire. 

“no it’s just... i don’t know any books that contain this type of knowledge. i also don’t understand your detailed knowledge of the wolfsbane potion. it all sounds like it’s from personal experience if you ask me...” lupin is trying to wheedle him it seems. harry smiles nostalgically as he thinks about his last meeting with grey —even if he did cry pathetically. 

“well i know a werewolf you see. the potion part was simply more my knowledge of plants more than anything.” he shrugs innocently. professor snape drops a vial that smashes loudly against the floor. he turns and stalks over to them, transfiguring a chair and sitting down to glare down at harry. 

“potter, i thought you’d know better than to stay around werewolves, especially after the lesson on them!” lupin looks startled by his presence and harry doesn’t think he appreciates how unobservant the man is. 

“the werewolf has never endangered me not even on a full moon!” harry says, waving his hand dismissively, scowling at the prejudice snape holds against them. he really must find out the past between the two. “that’s how i know you’re a werewolf!” he chirps to professor lupin and both the professors freeze. 

snape stands quickly and is placing his hands on harrys shoulders while professor lupin paces behind them. the man moves him bodily checking for a bite mark no doubt. “foolish child!” the man hisses but harry sees an unnatural amount of worry in the mans eyes. 

“the werewolf didn’t bite me. i met him on the full moon anyways!” harry says and professor lupin sits back down, slumping in his chair, snape follows but more gracefully. “he did go after me at first though.” harry confirms and their auras spike in alarm almost immediately. 

“did it hurt you?” lupin asks quickly and harry narrows his eyes, standing up. 

“no,  _he_ didn’t hurt me. well initially he did but he fixed it afterwards anyways...” harry slowly lifts his shirt, showing them the three, thick, claw mark scars that run down his side. “he’d never hurt me purposely. mr grey always patches me up anyways. he looks after me!” he says with a childish grin as he sits back down, crosses his legs underneath him. 

“why would he need to patch you up unless he hurt you?” snape snaps and harrys face blanks. 

“i’m clumsy...” he says simply, avoiding their eyes as the air goes dark. snape tries to catch his eyes, no doubt to use some form of legilimency while lupin looks calculating. “he’s the one who let me read the course books, that’s why my essays are better now!” he admits softly, wincing at his phrasing and snape catches on to the way he worded immediately. 

“you said he  _let_ you... do your guardians not let you read?” surprisingly its professor lupin who asks the question snape looks like he’s dying to ask. harry shifts uncomfortably, standing up and grabbing his bag. 

“aunt petunia doesn’t really care for magic...” a flash of recognition flashes in snapes eyes, for who he doesn’t know. 

“...petunia evans?” he asks slowly, as if he can’t believe himself. 

“it’s not bad anyways. i just don’t want to upset her by reading  _freaky_ books in the house.” he shivers involuntary and makes his toward the door. “you won’t... you won’t be telling dumbledore about this right? i really don’t want him to worry over nothing.” harry pushes his magic out to make sure they agree. they nod gravely as they exchange a look harry cant interpret. 

“i won’t tell him about this if i haven’t told him about your patronus harry. whoever this werewolf is, is looking after you and that’s all that matters!” professor lupin says and harry beams at him, maybe there is hope of him reconciling with greyback —it’s not like they knew each other to begin with. 

“patronus?” professor snape asks and harry cringes, staring away from the pair. “you can produce a patronus?” the man asks slowly as if he’s talking to a child, obviously in disbelief of lupins words. 

“i saw harry use the spell against the dementors on the train. can you show sni- professor snape please harry?” snape bodily recoils at the word professor lupin almost slipped and harry finds himself intrigued at what could cause the unexpressive man such a reaction. 

happy the conversation drifted away from his home life, harry complies without much thought. “ _expecto patronum_ _!_ ” he says softly, flicking his wand. 

apollo comes bounding out and harry grins at the dragon who bounces eagerly. snapes eyes widen and he looks taken back by the magnificent dragon. 

“who taught you this spell?” he all but growls and harry furrows his eyebrows. 

“no one.” harry scoffs bitterly, raising his wand to pull apollo back. not one teacher in the damned school has helped him learn to defend himself when the dementors so obviously affect him. they haven’t even bothered to get a competent defense teacher that could actually teach harry something useful to defend himself with. with black supposedly after him and him being the target of voldemort on top of that, shouldn’t someone of tried to mentor him by now. it’s too late now anyways, the irony is he has a —hopefully former, if not that’s also fine— death eater tutoring him. 

“don’t lie to me boy!” harry again, involuntarily flinches away again the tone of voice. making the movement look fluid, he places his wand back in nyx’s pocket, unable to tell if either professors noticed the movement. 

“i’m not lying professor. i read about the spell in the book and seeing as no one bothered to inform me beforehand the dementors might affect me worse than your average person i tried it myself. the first time was on the train, when a dementor so conveniently came after me.” harry forces his voice steady, hiding the lie behind his eyes as he hardens his glare, the light shining off his useless glasses. 

“you’re saying, if i showed you a spell you’ve never practised right now, you could cast it efficiently?” snape raises an eyebrow, smirking as if he’s caught harry out. 

“yes.” harry smiles into snapes suspicion, watching as the man grunts, walking over to the book shelf on the other side of the room. 

the man stalks back over to him with a haughty look and shoves the books into his hand on an open page. harry looks down and almost snorts at the book. sure he’s never tried this specific spell, but with his elemental magic he has a bigger advantage than either of them. 

“harry you know you don’t have to do this? you don’t need to prove anything to snape...” lupin interjects, looking at him with concern filled eyes. snape sneers at the werewolf and harry wonders if they really have that little hope in his skills. 

he turns to professor snape, “where should i cast the spell?” he pries. knowing snape like he does, the man will purposefully make this difficult for him and if harry gets it wrong he’ll never hear the end of it. 

“on the windows.  _only_ the windows.” he drawls and harry can’t imagine how long it took him to perfect his tone of voice. he shrugs at snapes smirk and turns to the windows. 

“ _glacius_ .” he says softly, watching as the windows slowly glaze over, crystallised. harry smiles to himself, his elemental magic always has been stronger than normal spells and it’s his more favourable type of magic anyways, it brings good memories. 

“it is impossible you’ve never tried this spell before potter...” snape sneers as he taps on the icy windows, feeling the thickness of the ice. he walks back over to the book and flicks to a new page with his wand. “try this one!” he commands and harry carefully looks to the front of the book, snorting when he realises its a book on elemental spells. he grins happily at this. 

professor lupin walks over and frowns slightly. “you know you don’t have to cast this spell just because snape says so...” he trails off and harry winces, he hates when people seem him incapable. 

“i don’t see how it’s a problem. professor snape asked me to cast the spell so i will.” harry states coldly and professor snape turns to see the boy glaring away from lupins eyes. he clenches his fists tightly. 

“i’m your professor harry, you know you can come to me with anything...” he tries to manipulate harry. harry blinks harshly, is the man serious. his nails break skin in his palm, blood slowly seeping from the crescent wounds. 

harry grins innocently, a contrast to his clenched hands. “i know  _professor_ . i’ll be sure to come to you if i need to.” he says too sweetly to truly mean it. professor snape looks at him appraisingly for a moment and harry turns a dark glare the mans way as well. 

“ _orchideous_ _!_ ” he speaks after a moment, inhaling deeply before waving his wand. a beautiful bundle of white lily’s appear in front of them, on the floor. he hums in appreciation before turning and walking towards the door. “if you’ll excuse me professors i have somewhere i need to be now. do enjoy the rest of your day!” opening the door, he leaves swiftly, not giving them a chance to recover from the lily’s. a cruel but effective way to get out of their grasp. 

it’s hogsmeade and harry is once again alone. he rolls his eyes as he watches them leave through the clock tower, he wants to look at the bookstore in hogsmeade and doesn’t he have an invisibility cloak. it’s really a wonder he didn’t think about that before. he hopes they have ritual books there otherwise this is all pointless. 

he grabs his cloak and drapes it over his shoulders, catching a glimpse of davis’ dark brown hair leaving the courtyard. he wonders if her or her little friends have any books on dark rituals. hogwarts definitely let’s dark artefacts past the wards otherwise he would’ve been done for the moment he got back. he supposes there are dementors as well, so what do the wards protect against?

he cringes as he sees his footprints in the snow, he really should learn how to fix that. suddenly he’s being grabbed from either side and grunts loudly. “oh come on...” he mutters when he sees the twins, he really isn’t all that observant today. the snow clings to his glasses and makes it hard to see. “guys let me go!” he whines and they chuckle. 

“clever harry!” fred says, his lighter shade of red curling happily around harry. 

“but not clever enough!” george continues, a wicked smile on his face. 

“don’t worry—“

“—we’ll get you to hogsmeade—“

“—show you a quicker way too!” they finish and harry finds one of his problems for today solved. they pull him into a stairwell and he pulls of his cloak, pouting at them. 

“awe, how cute!” fred teases him. 

“you really do look quite swell when frostbitten harry!” george adds poking his nose. harry wrinkles his nose, batting george’s hand away with a frown. 

fred pulls out a piece of parchment and places it into his hands. harry raises an eyebrow, looking at the magic soaking the parchment. “what’s this then?” he questions with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“what’s this he says! hmf, that there is the secret to our success!” fred points at the blank paper and harry gives him a small smile. the twins have always been the kindest people he knows. 

“it’s a wrench giving it to you, believe me!” george sighs with a small scowl. 

“but we’ve decided your needs are greater than ours!” fred finishes in a warm voice and harry beams at them. they’re the best human beings and nobody can make him think otherwise. he doesn’t even know what needs they mean, or if they know his needs at all. “george if you will!” he gestures to the parchment. 

“i solemnly swear that i am up to no good!” george winks at him and harry huffs a breathy laugh, his breath showing up like smoke in the cold air. 

the blank parchment slowly fills with words and harry feels his heart get stuck in his throat. “messers mooney, wormtail, padfoot and prongs are proud to present the marauders map...” he strokes over his fathers nickname softly, a wistful smile on his face. 

“we owe them so much!” george says with wide eyes. 

harry slowly opens the parchment, looking down with wonder. “hang on, this is hogwarts!” he exclaims with a grin. his eyes trail the names and he almost grimaces when he catches sight of their headmaster. “is that really...” he trails off. 

“dumbledore—” fred clarifies the unasked question. 

“—in his study—” george nods gravely. 

“—pacing, does that a lot!” fred finishes and harry glares down again the name, his lips curling in disgust. the twins laugh slightly at his expression and he shoots them a halfhearted glare. 

“so this map shows...?” he questions further. information for information he thinks. 

“everyone.”

“where they are,—“

“—what they’re doing,—“

“—every minute,—“

“—of every day!” it is quite scary how they communicate like that. harry wonders if twins really do have telepathy or if this is just a rehearsed speech. 

“brilliant! where’d you get it?” he needles them both. 

“nicked it from filchs offices first year!” fred answers brazenly. 

“now listen, there are several passages out of hogwarts but we’d recommend—“

“— **_this one_**. ” they say, both pointing to the top of the map. 

“the one eyed witch passageway—“ fred grins proudly. 

“—it’ll lead straight to honeydukes cellar!” george extends. 

“you better hurry anyways, filch is heading this way!” fred tells him as if harry doesn’t have an invisibility cloak and disillusion spells at hand. 

“now harry don’t forget, when you’re done, just give it a tap and say—“

“ **_mischief managed_ ** , otherwise anybody can read it!” he jumps at them both, throwing his arms around their neck happily. 

“thank you guys so, so much!” they laugh deeply on either side of him. he pulls back and grins at them mischievously. they exchange a suspicious look. harry pulls his cloak over his shoulders. “did you know my dads nickname was prongs?” he pulls the hood up and runs away, ignoring their exclamations. 

he scowls when he eventually reaches the end of the dusty passageway. there’s got to be a much better way out of the school than this. he listens carefully for any footsteps before timidly pushing the tile up. 

he smiles when he finds nobody in sight. he stands up, making sure the tile is fully back in place. he pulls on his cloak and casts the strongest notice-me-not he can, heading up the stairs. 

honeydukes is a bright shop, too cheerful and bright for harrys liking. the different smells of sweets overwhelm him greatly and he winces slightly. he spots three of his roommates by the door and makes his way over, ruffling nevilles hair on his way out. he watches the boy jump and look at seamus accusingly, he snorts under his breathe and makes his way out. 

he supposes magically appearing footprints are more suspicious than a person under a notice-me-not. he timidly pulls off his cloak and puts it inside his pocket, next to the pocket library. nobody turns his way and he smirks, making his way to ‘tomes and scrolls’, the local bookstore. 

he scours the shelves, getting gradually more frustrated when there isn’t a book even hinting on soul magic. he rolls his eyes, this is hogsmeade, what was he expecting? but then again, knockturn alley is connected to diagon, who’s to say there isn’t something like that in hogsmeade?

he makes his way outside, sighing tiredly before pushing his magic out. he searches until he finds someone with a darker aura heading down into a connected alleyway. he grins a cheshire grin and quickly sneaks after the aura. the dark aura is gone when he reaches the entryway, pulling up nyx’s hood he makes his way in. 

the lights flicker eerily and harry rolls his eyes at how cliché this whole place is. the street is smothered in darkness with the exception of a few street lamps. harry thinks it’s stupid, why don’t they just disguise it as just another part of hogsmeade, pull up some notice-me-not charms against light wizards. 

harrys come to the conclusion that he isn’t a light or dark wizard. he’s more of a grey wizard. with the spells he’s made, he can’t be light; with his saviour complex, he can’t be dark. he just considers himself a wizard, there’s no reason to add a shade to the start. 

his eyes catch on a certain store; ‘ _librorum delicatae_ ’, books of delicacy.  perfect . 

he slinks inside the store, making his way straight to the back for the touchier subjects. they always keep the worse books nearer the back. he pulls his hood down and smiles softly when he reaches the section on soul magic. 

he looks for a little over half an hour, finding a few ritual books that talk about souls and parasites. he also found one full of bone based magic and one with specified runes. happy with his choices, he buys the books —hood up— and quickly hides them in his pocket library. 

upon exiting the alleyway he’s promptly knocked over. he blinks owlishly up, finding himself looking at a very familiar slytherin. “oh hi nott. davis, zabini.” he greets softly, letting nott pull him up hesitantly. 

“why on gods green earth were you in merchant alley?” davis asks, gaping in a not very flattering way. he tilts his head at her, looking behind him to find the street name on a sign above his head. 

“they don’t have this at knockturn...” he mumbles to himself before turning back to the slytherins with an angelic smile. “i got lost!” he lies easily, blinking up at them from underneath his lashes. 

“you weren’t here last hogsmeade...” nott points out. harry furrows his brows before smiling flirtatiously. 

“you were looking for me then?” he smirks and nott flushes ever so slightly, hiding it as the wind stinging his cheeks is a clever move on the others part. 

“i saw you in the clock tower.” oh, he’s that slytherin. harry shrugs mindlessly, leading them away from the alley entrance. he looks around the street, eyes catching the minister entering the three broomsticks with hagrid and grins wickedly. 

“didn’t get my slip signed!” he waves his hand dismissively and makes his way into the pub, the slytherins following right behind him. 

“the golden boy sneaking out of hogwarts, one must wonder why?” zabini grins lazily at him, sitting across beside him in a booth, the other slytherin sitting across from them. 

harry hums noncommittally, tracking the ministers movements as he sits down at a booth in front of them. harry. quickly casts a notice-me-not on their booth, shaking his head at davis’ questioning glance. 

“why didn’t you get it signed?” why are slytherins so goddamned observant, honestly it’s like they have nothing better to do than pick apart harrys words. 

“couldn’t.” he answers simply. listening for any signs the minister will start talking about things other than his drink choice. 

“why not? i’d give you anything if you asked me to.” zabini says with a wink and harry smiles sharply. 

“i broke a promise to my uncle,” he confides and they gesture for him to explain further. “blew up his sister.” they choke slightly and stare at him like he’s someone they’ve never seen before. 

“these dementors are terrible business for my pub! nobody wants to come in here with those things around cornelius!” madam rosmerta’s voice announces loudly and harry quickly shushes the slytherins broken attempts to start a conversation. 

“well it’s because we have a killer on the loose!” fudge says and harry remembers him saying those exact words to harry when he ran from the dursleys. “sirius black!” the slytherins blink at him, picking up the conversation hes listening to and look at him questionably. 

“what on earth would bring him here, to hogsmeade?” she asks nasally. 

“harry potter!” the minister whispers and harry grins viciously,  _ here we go _ . the slytherins gasp audibly and harry furrows his brows, throwing up a silencing charm alongside his other privacy charms. 

“why’d he be after you potter?” davis asks quickly, staring around like black might jump out at them any minute. 

“shut up and listen!” he snaps at her and she complies hastily. 

“now you better tell me what this is all about!” she demands. 

“well when the potters realised they were marked for death, they went into hiding. nobody knew where they were, one who did was sirius black and he told you-know-who!” professor mcgonogall joins and harry wonders when she joined the table. the slytherins eye him carefully as if he might blow up any second and he scowls at them, he wasn’t that reactive under the influence... was he?

“not only did black lead you-know-who to the potters that night, he also killed one of their friends; peter pettigrew!” the minister scoffs and madam rosmerta makes a confused hum. 

“peter pettigrew, the small pudgy one who trailed after sirius black.” mcgonogall clarifies. 

“ah i remember now! peter pettigrew, didn’t let potter and black out of his sight. so what happened?” now that is information harry didn’t know, not that lupin told him much. something about the way it was phrased didn’t seem a coincidence to harry. 

“he was going to warn the potters you see, and might’ve managed to had he not run into an old friend!” mcgonogall sighs wistfully and exasperatedly as if she’s repeated this story over and over. 

“black was vicious, he didn’t kill pettigrew; he destroyed him! a finger, that’s all was left. a finger!” missing a finger, missing a finger. the words ring through his head like he’s missing something highly important here and it isn’t a finger. he glances around the room skeptically, thankfully no one is looking their way at all. 

“sirius black may not have put his hand to the potters, but he’s the reason they’re dead!” that’s a harsh comment for professor mcgonogall. harry also doesn’t believe it for one second, black didn’t kill the potters, voldemort did. it’s a tad harsh to blame the man for something so serious. 

“now he wants to finish what he started!” the minister seems like the type of man to have a love of theatre. 

“i don’t believe it!” neither does he, he wants to tell madam rosmerta. 

“that’s not the worst of it...” fudge speaks lowly and seriously as if he himself can’t believe those words. 

“what could possibly be worse?” madam rosmerta asks and harry has to agree.  _what could be worse_ , he wonders. isn’t it bad enough his parents are dead, they focus on the killers more than the actual deaths. harry finds that quite offending to their honour, even on his part. 

“sirius black was and remains to this day... harry potters godfather!” harrys actually so surprised he snorts, that wasn’t what he’d expected mcgonogall to say. 

with that said the minister and professors leave the pub, a subdued mood following them. 

“do you think the minister goes to the theatre? or maybe he does acting...” harry asks the slytherins when the door shuts behind the minister. they blink at him, eyeing him cautiously. 

“aren’t you angry with black?” nott asks carefully, like he’s addressing a nuclear bomb and trying not to offend it. 

“should i be? as far as i’m concerned he wasn’t even a death eater, nor involved in my parents deaths.” he doesn’t see the harm in telling the slytherins this. no one will believe a word they say outside of their own house, they aren’t the type to spread gossip anyways. he’s pretty sure pansy parkinson is the only gossiper in their year group or maybe daphne greengrass. whoever it is definitely can’t rival parvati and lavender, those two spread word before it even happens most of the time. it’s like they can see the future. maybe they can, what does he know? they do have a love for divination after all. 

“how would you know who is and who isn’t a death eater?” davis smiles at him, trying to get underneath his skin like she always does. after their first potions assignment went smoothly she’s been trying to see what makes him tick, not that she’ll find out any time soon. 

“i have my sources and aren’t i the one with voldemort on my tail anyways.” he says avoiding answering the question directly. if he were still under the potions, he wouldn’t of held out as long as he has when mentioning things like this. 

he’s planting seeds, you see. making them all doubt what they know. he started with professor lupin and professor snape. then he moved onto the slytherins and hufflepuffs. 

“you won’t be telling anyone about what we just heard anyways!” he announces as they all get up, moving to go back out into the snow. 

“how are you so sure of that?” zabini smirks at him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. harry rolls his eyes and lets them lead him to wherever they’re going next. 

“no one will believe you if they won’t believe me.” he smirks back, cheekily. zabinis eyes flicker with delight at his game being joined on the other side. 

they enter honeydukes again and harry wrinkles his nose at all the citrusy smells filling the air. he walks in front of them, deciding he might as well get grey something while he’s here. he picks up a small bag of chocolates and smiles slightly at the coffee flavour. 

“they’re not for me, i’m not a big fan of coffee anyways.” he tells the slytherins who eye him funnily. 

“who are they for then?” davis asks with a raised eyebrow. harry sometimes wonders if they’re related with how similar their features are, her green eyes just aren’t as vibrant as his though. 

“a friend.” paying as he answers cryptically, he waits as they walk around, choosing their own items. 

he chuckles shortly when he sees nott eating a piece of toffee. “what?” nott asks defensively, his amber eyes glinting with insecurity. harry internally cringes, knowing he accidentally upset the boy. 

“it’s just, you remind me of toffee.” he replies, trying to convey he didn’t mean it to come out that way. “it’s not a bad thing!” he blurts promptly. 

“what do you mean then?” nott asks and harry hates to see the worried look on the boys face. 

“toffees just nice yanno? and sweet. it’s fitting.” he smiles and nott blushes at his words. davis coughs behind them, throwing her arms over their shoulders. 

“come on ladies i need to go get some ink so stop flirting and escort me there!” she commands and harry laughs at her. davis has a fun personality once you get to know her. she comes across as rude and uptight before you realise she just has a sense of dry humour. harry secretly thinks she has trust issues herself, he sees the signs in the way she uses humour as a defense mechanism to put people off. 

“as you wish your majesty!” he bows promptly, letting her link her arm through his elbow as they walk out of the store. 

“never knew you’d be so much fun to hang around potter. i suppose it’s your little gryffindors that make it so unbearable—“ she cuts herself off, turning to see if she’s said something wrong by insulting his best friends. 

“trust me, i know exactly what you mean.” he mumbles under his breath and she lets out a surprised snort. 

“well you’ve got me now, don’t you potter and i’m clingy bitch so granger can shove all those books right up her—“ 

“okay that’s enough tracey!” nott intercepts before davis can finish the sentence but harrys already laughing so hard tears come to his eyes alongside zabini. nott just looks around wildly, embarrassed. 

“you love me really teddy!” she grins happily, yanking on their arms. 

harry looks at nott for a minute silently. “teddy huh?” he asks with a mischievous grin. nott groans and throws his hands up, storming ahead while the other three run after him, laughing loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lupin: where did you find this nonbook information?  
> Harry: I know werewolf  
> Snape: YOU WOT  
> Harry: u werewolf hA  
> Lupin: fuck I’ve been found out  
> Harry: fuck u

**Author's Note:**

> i’m copy and pasting from my notes soooo it might not show italics i guess


End file.
